Revolution: Defiance
by williewildcat
Summary: Miles/OC - A little different take on Season 1 - Miles isn't alone in Chicago. Alex escaped Monroe and has been with Miles in hiding. She shares a past with Miles but knew Monroe before the Outage. When Charlie shows up begging for help, Miles and Alex are forced to fight the demons as one comes face to face with old traumas. Defiant they must be or fail! RATED M!
1. Chicago 2027

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…..though I wished I owned the rest….*sighs*

This will be Miles/OC with the events prior to and currently occurring in the series. Assuming the worldwide outage took place in 2012 the year will be 2027. And yes it looks like Nora is going to be an old flame of his….*groans inwardly* Without giving too much away off to the races as they say!

* * *

_**The Grand…..Chicago…..2027**_

Once the darling of the upper crust of Chicago society, she now stood as a chewed out skeleton, a pathetic show of her former glory days. The doors had been piecemeal with boards as the original wood and paint had rotted and sloughed off from the unforgiving elements. On the street that paralleled her grand but chipped and neglected staircase a market of goods and services were traded, a modern twist on an old practice. All that was missing was the traveling minstrel reciting song and poem of times long ago, of the age when the lights were still strong. A modest boat was being dry docked in the middle of the road with a few men scraping and repainting the hull. A woman sold leather goods and fishing lines to the men and women who spent countless days on tumultuous breakers of Lake Michigan and beyond. A few feet down the way a fight broke out between two women over the fair pricing and negotiating of a bushel of apples. Such scuffles were not uncommon in the post Outage world. There were no police or law enforcement to subdue either one for the police had disintegrated along with the other basic services during the Outage. Bystanders ignored them as they would wind down and soon resume their stations as merchant and consumer once again. That was how it worked in this new world.

When one approached the faded stairs and reached the main entrance, the doors would flood the front and mid sections in a deluge of sunlight which temporarily stunned the patrons. Overhead a faded warped arrow with the words _Parking This Way _still legible in bold ebony lettering, still working to guide the nonexistent guests. The patrons hollered and downed their drinks in the poor but sustainable light of the candles and flames that allowed for the drunken rowdy throngs to carry on. Most were vagabonds and transients, seeking work on a fishing trawler or other related industry. Industry, the name had taken on a less polluted meaning since the Outage. There were no women save for the brunette working behind the bar. Her hair was restrained in loose band keeping her eyes unobstructed. While most patrons were harmless drunks, there was always a few who would instigate something from time to time. Pity the ignorant male who attempted to tussle with her. The Bowie knife was concealed behind her back, the loose fitting but form flattering cover of olive added extra coverage. There was also the Browning under the bar, her choice. It had been fired one time since she arrived. Poor bastard was stupid enough to enter her world so he paid the price.

"You know you're classing up the place, Alex." The gravely male voice echoed quietly in her ear.

"Good to know," she spun around planting her hands on her hips. "This place could use a woman's touch Miles."

"Funny," he snorted humorlessly. "You with a woman's touch?"

"I'm hurt," she jutted her bottom lip out in a faux pout. "How could you say such a thing?"

"As long as I've known you Alexandra you were never a dainty doily kind of girl. You never did ."

"And that's why I'm alive and not Monroe's whore." Her toned turned serious as her fingers dug into the softening oak, struggling to suppress the living nightmare that crept into her consciousness. Her mind drew a blank stare as the distant glint gathered in her eyes. Her breath was clipped as she fought back the surging traumas of the past.

Miles slipped an arm discreetly around her waist detecting the tension stringing her voice. He knew it was a subtle but powerful method in calming her. Her hand clawed his, driving her fingers into the rough callouses that crowned his knuckles. Alex had accomplished what no other person could claim: She escaped Monroe and lived to tell about it. Alex didn't like to talk the captivity; of torture and rape. Monroe was convinced she knew where Miles and Ben were but she wasn't about to tell him shit. The son of a bitch could keep carving the Bowie into her arms and legs but she wouldn't betray a syllable. It had been after her self-liberation that Alex had reached Chicago and found Miles. At first he had not recognized her as she had stolen a shirt and pair of pants that belonged to Monroe as she had been deprived of basic human needs. He had mistaken her for another member of the militia until she uttered his name in a struggled breath.

_Miles….._

Ghost would've been understatement. Miles was stunned when she stumbled through the door and collapsed against the stool, tumbling over with the seat of the furnishing smacking her in the side. Her face was crisscrossed with faint angry trails. Her hair was disheveled as though she had been put through a wind tunnel. But as he had kneeled down, something caught his eye. The yellowish purple bruise was hideous against her light olive skin. Her pupils were dilated but fixed on his as her mouth lay partially open, reminding him of a fish gasping for its last breath.

It had taken Miles time patience and compassion until Alex emerged from her semi catatonic state. She had been kept in a closed part of the hotel, shivering and mumbling incoherently. The midnight crescents that clung fiercely to her eyes had aged her by a decade! Her nails were cracked from the continuous injection of shoots over a prolonged period. But those were not what made his anger rise. It had been one morning she was flat on her stomach, lost in the planes of consciousness, unresponsive to the subtle swipes of water and cotton. Miles had swept her hair aside, to cleanse the layer of perspiration of course. As her neck lay exposed to the light he froze with hand suspended. There, etched at the base of her skull was the Monroe insignia. It was how they marked concubines and other prisoners taken in war. The permanent curves and peaks stood out in the bold streaks of ebony. It was Monroe's personal mark. The cold sickening sensation circulated through his veins, nauseating him as the whiskey churned violently in his stomach.

_What did he do to you? _

To this day she couldn't recall the memories of Monroe's demonic hold over her without losing control of her mind and body. Miles didn't ask as he had seen the consequences of such intrusions. Early in her arrival, he had made the mistake of asking what had occurred which rewarded Miles with a vacant stare which was succeeded by curling up into the fetal position and shivering like a small dog.

"I want to kill him for what he did to you."

"And blow our cover? You and I both know we have to stay incognito. Revenge will wind up getting us drawn and quartered."

"Well it doesn't mean I can't dream."

"Just remember I get the first shot." She added a sinister smile that was matched with an equally eager one from him. Her eyes had brightened eliminating the fine lines around her eyes and mouth.

"That's my girl," Miles squeezed her waist with his arm a final time then released her before arousing any looks or suspicions. Chicago was still large enough they could retain their obscurity which played heavily in their favor. They had not seen the militia as of recent but it didn't mean they wouldn't harass their place of business. The Monroe Militia included Chicago as part of its patrol, ensuring that its definition of order was maintained and to watch for a pair of wanted "fugitives." For Miles and Alex the minions dispatched had no clue to their identities.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to space out like that." She pulled away and started for the back desiring a moment of solitude. Miles let her go as she continued to need her space and time. Some days she kept him close while others she was distant and cool in her mannerisms. Alex would be quick to apologize once the episode would pass but Miles would wave off the apology.

_Alex I understand. You need to heal. I've seen this in Marines that came back from Afghanistan and Iraq. I will help you through this but please don't close me out._

She refused to shut him out of her life. Miles had evolved into her beacon in the storm. Eventually she started working in the tavern, earning a reputation for taking no one's shit. Her small stature had created an idea that she was weak, helpless, and vulnerable. One brute had learned the hard way and met the sharp end of her Bowie one cold Chicago winter night. That was all it took for the others to keep their distance. A few others had been rewarded with a flick of the blade in her hand when that look wandered into their eyes along with a small shake of her head.

* * *

_**Central Indiana…2027**_

General Sebastian Monroe could feel his patience waning. Normally his demeanor was cool and unwavering; a throwback from his days in the Marine Corps. His eyes were those of a steel trap: beautiful but deadly. His form was not large or blessed with iron ripples of muscle. But then again strength wasn't always physical. It was part of his success in campaigns and as a general.

His opulent quarters were lined with solid planks of the finest wood that the militia could retrieve from former mansions and luxury hotels. Of course there were furnishing and a few art pieces that complimented the otherwise simple settings. Behind him was a solid flap that acted as a wall between his front meeting area with his men and where he slept or sought privacy. Today he was seated in the antique 18th century chair behind the teak desk. A glass tumbler of bourbon sat untouched, silently pleading to be given attention.

It had been what, 5 years since he lost one of his prized possessions and no trace or track of her had been located since! How could she have been so elusive? He had dispatched his best men into the four Cardinal directions of the Republic after her absence was discovered. Neville had headed up the campaign, scouting town after town, settlement after settlement only to return with nothing. No stone had been left unturned, no barn left unsearched, and no house left unscathed. Someone was helping her.

"Miles Matheson," the name rolled violently off his tongue and past his lips. It had to be! Who else would be able to offer her quarters and keep her out of sight?

He rose and went for his quarters with intent steps, going straight for the small wooden chest that was kept locked. The key resided in his right pocket. It was an old fashioned brass key, one that was out of the old Victorian stories or houses that dotted Charleston; before the Outage that is. Monroe slipped the brass key from his pants and held it level with his steady gaze. He studied it for a moment before sliding it into the keyhole then clicking it to the right. The lid lifted unveiling what lay concealed inside the solid confines of oak and velvet. Once he got her back what the box held would make her think twice about escaping him again.

"General," the courier called out from the other side. Monroe slammed the lid shut and returned the lock in its rightful position.

"Yes," his voice was cold in greeting his subordinate.

"This arrived from Captain Neville."

His left hand trembled as it extended the rolled up dispatch from his top commander. Monroe snatched it up and looked at the younger man dismissively.

"Go," he barked. The boy ran as though he was being pursued by wild dogs as he fled the general's quarters. Monroe shook his head as the backside of the weaker one vanished behind the flaps of his tent and out of his sight. He was a more recent draft into the militia.

Monroe went for his chair, deciding it sit and draw the tumbler into his grip. His lips parted ways, letting to slightly cool liquid gold cascade into the waiting abyss. So far they had not tracked Ben Matheson down which was slowly transforming into a very tedious and tiring expedition. Monroe hoped this would be some lighter news for once.

He unrolled the cloth protective covering as the chalky trails greeted his eager eyes.

_We have located Matheson and are proceeding to intercept and retrieve. _

_ -Neville_

This was good news indeed! The Captain had come through!

_Until you bring back Matheson DO NOT think about returning to camp!_

His final words had stuck with his commander. Monroe knew Neville wanted to return to his wife and home but the mission had to be completed.

The scroll sat in an unruly heap as he leaned back and continued to savor the tumbler's offering. Suddenly a dark and malicious smile slid up onto his lips. If Miles learned of his brother's arrest then it could lure him and Alexandra out. Then nothing could stop him…

**What could be in Monroe's box? And how will Alex react to Charlie's arrival and her entourage?**


	2. 15 Years - The Outage

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but Alex…..The rest belong to Eric Kripke & Co. (Lucky bastards)

* * *

_**15 Years before the Outage…..Saint Louis**_

"Yes I am aware the National Weather Service is putting the area under alert. Well that's why you hired me Jon remember? If I wasn't monitoring it I wouldn't be the Emergency Response Planner now would I?"

Alex sighed as her supervisor continued about the concerns over the impending arrival of the cold front over the area. Sometimes she wondered where he would be without her. A late strong late season cold front was approaching from the Northwest, ready to crash into the humid unstable air of the Midwest. It was nothing new as it had happened before. But she was praying it wouldn't happen before she flew out to South Carolina tomorrow morning. She was taking a much overdue vacation to see Miles and Nature was not going to get between her and getting laid; preferably on the beach.

_"Well I'll need you to be on alert vacation or not. Miles may have to wait."_

"Jon, if I miss out on this I will personally drive to your house and kick your ass all the way to Parris Island!"

_"No need to make empty threats Alex."_

Alex wouldn't harm Jon as he had been an awesome supervisor. Her work in preparing Douglas County for any emergency had caught the attention of a few notable figures earning her a prestigious reputation amongst the emergency management community. When the surrounding counties in the Saint Louis area were devastated with influenza two years prior, her county proudly reported lower infection rates and deaths.

"You know I wouldn't really hurt you…." She added a light chuckle at the end.

_"Let's hope this blows over."_

"You don't know the half of it."

Alex pressed the end button on her cell and resumed packing her bag for the upcoming trip. Clothing was looking to be optional though she wanted to see a few of the historic sites around the town. And there there was Bass. Sebastian "Bass" Monroe was a fellow sergeant in the Corps and he and Miles were thick as thieves. Hopefully Bass kept Miles from getting into any trouble which seemed to find him no matter what. She promised Bass they would catch up when she was out there and have a few rounds with him. He was like a brother to her, keeping an eye out for her when she was around. All three were very close.

As if on cue her cell went off and vibrated on the top of her suitcase. As she plucked the device up her eyes rested on the set of numbers that made up Miles's cell.

"Speak of the Devil," her finger pushed the talk button as she pressed the phone to her cheek. "Well hello there."

_"And hello to you too good lookin."_

"I take it you're out with Bass?" Alex continued dropping items ranging from skimpy thongs to full tank tops and shorts pausing to give a short glance at slate colored two piece. She shrugged and dropped it in.

_"We're having a few drinks at the Roadhouse then heading back to base."_

"So you will be at the airport tomorrow and not hugging the toilet right?" She lightly teased him.

_"You're kidding right?"_

"Well maybe Bass is going to get you good and drunk so he can have his way with me." Alex heard him choking back the drink he appeared to have been attempting to drink in the middle of her personal amusement.

_"Snowball's chance in Hell of that happening! The second that door closes at the barracks…."_

_ "Easy there Don Juan! Just be sure to leave a tie on the door!"_

Alex laughed at Bass chiming in in the background. Oh yes, it was going to be a very fun two weeks. Between being pinned under Miles and trading barbs with Bass, two weeks would literally fly for her.

"Well you two have a beer each for me and my flight is due to arrive in Charleston at 11:00. Don't be late Matheson!"

_"Sweetheart I wouldn't miss it! You have no idea….."_

"Okay well I'm out; gotta finish packing and all that. See you two geniuses tomorrow."

_"Absolutely! Night Alex….Love ya."_

_ "Goodnight Miles….Love you too."_

Alex hung up and zipped the bag closed. She wasn't about to pay a damned baggage fee and everything went in one carryon. As she turned and started for the bathroom, the power flickered. Odd but not uncommon. Before she could grab the hair dryer on the stand her pone went off again.

_"Alex it's Ben. Look there's no time to talk you need to listen to me right now!"_

"And hi to you too Ben."

_"It's starting Alex. You need to get out of Saint Louis now!"_

"Okay you need to slow it down Ben. How can you be so sure about it?"

_"Look there's no time to argue! I can't reach Miles!"_

"Alright, alright," she dropped on the edge of the bed. "I'm listening."

_"It's starting Alex...Y….sup…..city….."_

"Hey Ben you're breaking up! Ben!" She hollered at the phone. The reception garbled and muffled Ben's voice. She couldn't hear him or what he was relaying.

A sharp pop broke her hearing as the ceiling fan flickered and rattled overhead.

"Maybe one of the computer nerds upstairs is hogging the grid again," she didn't laugh at her own joke. It was just a way to soften the blow that was erupting around her like a volcano.

"Damn it," she felt her stomach drop. Alex hoped Ben was wrong and that it was just some a random transformer that shorted in the middle of nowhere. Tomorrow the power would be back and she would be on her way to South Carolina. Life was going to go on as it always had!

* * *

**Beaufort, South Carolina….**

The sleek red Charger with black siding roared down the highway back towards the confines of Parris Island. The air carried a thick swath about it, a typical South Carolina night. Miles had the windows down allowing the air to streamline around him and Bass, offering some means of comfort and reprieve from the oppressive Southern atmosphere.

"So what's the plan?" Bass added a knowing smirk to his question.

"Head to Charleston and pick up a certain brunette."

"That's not what I meant smartass!"

"I don't know yet," Miles's tone dropped.

"You are not going to back out on this! This was all you had talked about! No way!"

"This coming from the guy who won't call a girl but has no difficulty in sending her short coded texts. Bass why don't you just call her?"

"Nobody calls anybody anymore. Hey she's 22 and she doesn't even talk on the phone!" Bass was slightly defensive in his actions where dating was concerned. His fingers glided over the touch screen of the Smartphone.

"Wow," Miles was amazed at his friend's lack of social skills.

"Are you going to offer me tech advice? What, you with your big old fat Casio block phone?"

"What does that make Alex and me? Ancient?" He offered a thin smile just to appease the blonde man in the passenger seat. It would get Bass off his case for a few minutes.

Miles drummed his fingers in procession across the top arch of the wheel. Back in the barracks was a small silver band crowned with not a diamond but a clear deep blue sapphire that could put the very sky to shame. It wasn't that Alex would say no but it was hesitation on Miles's part. Would she truly be happy as a Marine's wife? The constant tours overseas had shattered many couples and families as the stress of being apart frayed family bonds. He didn't want that to happen to them. Miles wished he could see into the future.

At that exact moment his phone rang and he saw it was his brother, Ben.

"It's my brother," he flipped the older phone open with ease. "Benjamin what's going on?"

_"Where have you been?" _ Ben's voice was frantic on the other end.

"Why? What's going on?"

_"I've been calling!"_

"She's sending photos!" Bass was giddy as the device started to accept the first image.

"We went out for a few drinks and we're headed back to base now. Did something happen to Alex?" The twinge started out in his chest.

_"No, she's fine and knows what's going on. But you need to listen very very carefully to me!"_

"Wait what's going on? What do you mean she knows what's going on?"

_"It's going to turn off and never turn back on!"_

"What's going to turn off? What are you talking about?" Miles was genuinely confused at this point. Bass traded an equally perplexed expression as the second image downloaded.

"Holy…." He let out a low whistle. "Now that is true beauty right there!"

Miles ignored his comrade as he strained to listen to his brother.

_"Every…..turn….of…..Al…."_

"Ben are you there? What's going to turn off?" The signal rattled and hissed as it began to break. "Ben?"

"No…." Bass whined as his phone went fuzzy and contorted the nude image. A pale circle of blush was the last thing to grace his eyes. Miles felt the engine lurch and choke as the electrical components that illuminated the dashboard, radio and headlights systematically went out. The car rolled to a soft stop as others behind, ahead, and on the opposite two lanes got out in bewilderment. The vehicles that trained behind them went silent one by one.

"What the Hell is going on?" Miles wondered aloud.

Overhead the blinking strobes of airliners dropped across the horizon, dipping below the tree line with a thunderous boom to announce its final destination.

* * *

Alex rushed out to the balcony as the apartment shook with a violent tremor that nearly robbed her of her balance as she flung the doors open. Her mouth went to her hand as her eyes went wide open with horror. The jetliner cartwheel across the horizon where the skyline of Saint Louis went dark but was temporarily brightened by the flames of the fireball that broke the horizon. Planes didn't fall out of the sky like that! Planes didn't fall out of the sky!

"Oh my god," Alex felt her knees buckling against the wrought iron supports. It was happening. Deep down she knew Ben was right only Alex didn't want to believe it.

"Miles…." She breathed her lover's name with a light fleeting tone.

* * *

Miles was relieved to see the front gates of the base. He and Bass had hiked five miles back from where the Charger had died on the road. Everyone had started to abandon their vehicles creating a graveyard along the highway. The skies had turned unnaturally silent as for the first time since the advent of electricity the stars broke out overhead. Miles found it ironic how beautiful the natural world was as the one resource that fueled civilization had been silenced. He thought about Alex, hoping she was alright.

"She'll be fine," Bass clapped a hand over his shoulder. "Alex is a tough girl."

He didn't respond as they approached the guard on duty. The Marine stood with feet hips' width apart as his hands rested within one another behind his back.

"Halt," he ordered the two men to stop. Like a pair of obedient dogs they halted their movement as Miles fished out his wallet.

"Sergeant Miles Matheson," he produced the id card. The Marine peered in the reddish glow of the road flares used to create light and nodded at him. Bass had forgotten his card.

"You know me," the blonde rolled up his sleeve exposing the underside of his left forearm. "Sergeant Sebastian 'Bass' Monroe." The black lines creating his last initial jumped off the pale canvas as the Marine acknowledged familiarity.

* * *

Alex flipped the lantern on and hung it in the closet. She searched the top shelves searching for the hiker's pack she refused to part with.

"There it is," she tugged on the handle with a solid jerk clutching it to her chest.

She dropped the larger bag beside the smaller one she had intended to take to South Carolina the following day. With a heavy heart she grabbed the essential items leaving behind the swimsuit, thongs and other luxury items.

"Damn it," she cursed at the top of her lungs and slapped her hand against the wall. Why did it have to happen? Why didn't Miles listen to Ben? She could only hope Miles had the sense to start for Chicago.

Alex continued packing the bag, but with slower regrettable movements. Her heart dropped as she stopped and stared at the two different bags resting side by side. It was as though she was experiencing a transition; an unwelcome one. Jeans, shirts, button up shirts, boots, socks, and toiletries took top priority. Food would have to be light but sustaining. Alex wasn't comfortable with leaving the place she had called home for nearly 10 years but the lights were gone and probably not going to come back. Life as humanity knew was extinct.


	3. Chicago 2027 - Part 2

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but Alex…..The rest belong to Kripke and Co (Lucky Bastards!)

Yeah after watching No Quarter all I gotta say is….DAMN! Miles has some explaining to do to Alex….Can she forgive him or will she hate him?

* * *

_**Chicago…..2027**_

The night had turned unusually cool as the chilled breeze rolled off Lake Michigan and through the narrow caverns created by the dilapidated skyscrapers and tenements. Alex shivered beneath the modest blanket and buried her face into Miles's chest. The room was dark except for the lone dancing flame on the center stand. The shadows danced in twisted lines and figures across her exposed back, dampening the deep grotesque scars that ran perpendicular to her spine. Miles cringed in silence whenever his calloused fingers made contact with the permanent reminders of Monroe's hand. The guilt ate away a little more of his soul. Why didn't he reach her before it?

"The winter's going to set in early," she muttered. Her soft voice cracked the trance he was under.

"I think you're right," Miles wrapped his arm around her waist, absorbing the heat of her skin. Despite the growing chill the space between them burned red hot. The sensation of her naked body was one of the few pleasures he wished to remember from days gone by. Miles felt her arms slip around his narrow waist as he drew the blanket to the base of her neck. It had taken her a couple of years of healing and suppressing the demons before one night she approached him.

_Miles was sprawled over the chair, reading one of the books that somehow survived the unforgiving hands of Nature. It was an old book of poetry by Robert Frost. Alex had professed her love for one poem of his, The Road Not Taken, when they first dated. It just happened his fingers flicked the page to that very series of verses. She had recited it word for word on their first date. _

_ He was halfway asleep when the slender hand reached out across his face. Miles leapt up reaching for his blade but froze when he saw it was Alex. _

_ "Hey," she held both hands in a non aggressive manner. "I thought you were awake."_

_ "No, it's fine," he bent the corner of the page before shutting the book. "I was…."_

_ "Reading," she crossed her arms. "Lemme guess…..Frost, The Road Not Taken."_

_ "How'd you guess?" The knowing grin brightened her face. _

_ "I know you that well Miles," she dropped down on his mid section. "Even after being away from you for as long as I was."_

_ She plucked the book from his hands and placed it on the stand. Miles sat up even with her still perched on top of him. Something had changed. Alex blinked and tilted her head as Miles's bewilderment dominated his eyes and mouth. _

_ "What?" Her mouth turned down to a deep frown. "Miles what's wrong?"_

_ "You…." He shook his head. _

_ "What about me?" She raised an eyebrow as a thin smile cracked her mouth, exposing the lines that penetrated her skin. _

_ "You…..Sitting here and talking. Your eyes….They're brighter."_

_ Alex quietly laughed as he felt embarrassed over his cheesy speech. "I think I know what you're trying to say."_

_ Miles felt the weight of her body shift and turn as Alex sprawled out on top of him. He felt the ache in his chest but it wasn't a physical ache. It had been an eternity or rather it felt like one, since they had been so close as they were now. The dark layers of agony had suffocated the vibrant psyche that he had come to know and love before the world came to a dark halt. Miles had been with a few women since the Outage but they were nothing more than bodies; warm soft bodies to quell a primal need. Some nights he felt like a whore, that he had betrayed Alex by lying with strangers. Her response had been one of understanding as he had feared she was dead. But her gentle reassurances did little to scrape away the guilt that clung to his heart like a greasy slime._

_ "Let's not talk," she shook her head. "I just want…." Her words halted on the tip of her tongue. _

_ "I won't do anything you don't want. You know that."_

_ "I know," Alex nodded and leaned in until she was sprawled across the top. The shirt that hung on her shoulders had been one of his but now served the duty of covering her scar ridden body during slumber. A few months ago Alex had started showing up beneath the covers when Miles woke up. Her arms and legs were latched on like the tentacles of an octopus, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Now her hand was gliding under the loose crimson shirt, seeking out the ripples and valleys that the physical demands of the Marines had carved out._

_ Her smooth fingers tugged the faded shirt up showing off the first level of solid bars of flesh. Alex bent down, pressing her lips to the beckoning flesh. Miles inhaled sharply as his body remembered the long missed feeling of her mouth to his body. He groaned and arched his back off the couch, letting the shirt gather around his neck. Alex continued her slow exploration of skin, lightly lapping around the rigid nipples. Her mouth pressed down, devouring the eager offering with slow teasing sweeps. Miles writhed and bucked his hips almost knocking them both off the narrow couch. Alex reacted and pinned them down preventing the night from turning disastrous. _

_ "Maybe we should take this somewhere more comfortable." Miles grinned sheepishly. Alex licked her bottom lip then bit down on it. His eyes watched the hypnotic sway of the pink tip as it ran around the plump flush bit of flesh. That tongue held a very vulgar reputation; one he wanted to see up close and personal all over again. _

_ Alex slipped off the couch, sauntering from the glow of the candle. Her eyes glanced over her left shoulder with a seductive glint. Miles wanted to rush her, pin her against the stairs and ravish her. But Alex was in control, it was her call. She wanted to take it slow, Miles would follow her lead. There would be no need to rush. This was their night. _

_ Miles grabbed the candle before trailing after her. _

_ He entered his private quarters, frowning as he didn't see his lover. The candle was lowered on the stand, illuminating the room with a soft warm aura. The sudden caress of her petite hands sent slivers of electricity through his body. The feathery touches stroke up his chest, caught by his powerful larger ones. Alex closed her eyes, surrendering her will to him. The warmth of his mouth danced across her palms, remembering how they fit against his lips. She sighed and breathed into his spine, taking in the scents of the bar, cheap booze, and him; the distinctive smell of Miles._

_ "I've missed you….So much….." _

_ Alex brushed her cheek against the taut plane of his back, smiling as they rippled. _

_ "Miles," her voice called out. He froze mid kiss and turned her around. The hardness that had locked away the shimmering jewels of cool blue fractured before Miles's rich sepia ones. "Please…..Heal me…."_

_ He felt his heart quicken in his chest. _

_ "Miles…."_

_ "Are you sure Alex?" Doubt clung to his question. Alex took a step back pulling out of his hold. As her fingers slid away from his, they tugged the layer of fabric up and over her head. The boxers sitting around her waist were yanked down over the sharp juts sliding down and around her ankles. _

_ "Does this answer your question?"_

_ She returned to his waiting arms, capturing his hungry mouth with hers. The kiss was hard and needy. Alex pushed in, prying his mouth open with her demanding tongue. Miles groaned with delight, feeling his jeans turning painfully tight as her naked hips ground into his. Alex ran her hands slowly through his disheveled locks, pulling random fistfuls knowing he was fully turned on by it. After being alone thinking she would never return to him again, here she was, naked and hungering for him! _

_ His hands curled around the perfect ass, locking her legs around his waist as he carried her towards the bed. Alex felt her body lowering onto the mattress, not caring if it had a hole or two. What mattered was him. Miles reclaimed her mouth, feeling her tongue slipping between his lips. The soft hot muscle teased and slid along his, twisting around in a slow passionate dance. His hand dipped between their bodies, reaching for the buckle of his belt. _

_ "No," she snarled and snatched the metal and leather in her hands, prying both apart. Alex gasped and squeezed her eyes shut fisting the blanket as the single digit breached the hot folds, carefully slipping inside._

_ "Love it….don't you?" His voice purred in her ear. Alex couldn't speak as the second digit joined the other. The guttural growl rumbled in her throat and chest as the short snaps of his wrist brought her closer to the edge. Alex arched her back and pumped her hips as the tightening in her lower body gathered like a summer storm. Miles watched as she twisted and fucked his fingers, grinning as the short pants turned harder and faster. _

_ "Miles….." _

_ Miles showered her neck and jaw with the sweet taste of his lips. Her muscles constricted and pulsed around him as she rode out the powerful orgasm. A few tears streaked down her face as she was overwhelmed with the rush of emotions that charged her body. His cock twitched at the sight of her naked body on his bed, caught in the grip of release. The pressure left her slick channel but the wonderful ache continued to throb between her legs. Miles straightened up, unfastening the brass button and zipper. Alex opened her eyes as he stood at the edge, gazing with lust at her as she couldn't move or rather didn't want to move. _

_ An arm scooped her up and higher on the bed as Miles crawled on top. Her legs locked on his waist, bringing him down until she was covered by him. Their mouths met and melted as one followed by their bodies. Miles was slow and gentle as he filled her with his weeping cock. Her body remembered him, fitting around him like a wet hot glove. _

_ "Alex," he exhaled. _

_ "I'm fine," she smiled reassuringly. "Just move….."_

_ His mouth latched onto her neck, sucking on the light olive skin as he thrust long and deep inside. The room was filled with the sounds of skin quietly slapping against skin as two lovers became one._

_ "God….I've missed you….so much….I never stopped loving you….."_

_ "I love you too…."_

_ Miles continued his rhythmic thrusts, wanting this moment between them to last. But his body tightened and coiled. _

_ "Miles," Alex felt her adrenaline coursing as her vision blurred and body pulsed. _

_ "Yes," he groaned. "Alex…."_

_ She cried into the crook of his neck as her body shuddered in release. His cock and thighs turned slick with honey gold. Tears streamed down her face as her body convulsed one final time. Miles felt his body take over, pounding furiously against her as the tightness erupted and euphoric high saturated every cell of his body. Her body grew hotter as he came inside her. The thick hot ropes sprayed inside her walls, erasing the traces of the one who harmed her. _

_ Miles felt his arms buckle and give way, landing on top of his lover. His vision returned and heart hammered as he took shallow rapid breaths. Sex with her was always amazing, even if it was a short interlude in the bathroom like they had done on his lunch break one day. Miles wasn't sure what it was but he didn't want to know what it was about Alex that made his blood turn into rivers of molten lava that burned with an undeniable passion and lust that only she could sate. _

_ He kept his head on her chest as she stroked the unruly strands. A half smile budged up the corner of her mouth. _

_ "I would say we shower but showers don't exactly exist anymore."_

_ "I may be able to remedy that," Miles propped himself up on his elbows. _

_ "Really now? And what would be as wonderful as hot running water?"_

_ The water was tepid but neither one complained. Miles held Alex close as they soaked in the old four legged tub. _

_ "I don't know how you did it but I love it," she snuggled closer against him. _

_ "This place has a few secrets left in her," Miles kissed the top of her damp head. Alex was running her fingers over his collarbone, having found peace for the first time since the Outage._

* * *

"Does the Grand have any secrets left for us to discover?"

Miles lightly laughed in response.

"We might be able to find one more….."

"Well how about tomorrow? Right now I'm comfortable and don't want to move."

To prove her point, Alex pulled the blanket tighter.

"I was thinking the same thing," Miles yawned and shut his eyes but not before giving her one last kiss before drifting asleep. He looked down one last time and noticed Alex had fallen asleep.

"I'm so glad you came back," he confessed before letting slumber whisk him away.

**Next update: Tragedy hits the Matheson Family **


	4. Tragedy- Central Illinois Part 1

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but Alex…The rest belong to Kripke & Co (DAMN THEM!)

_**Central Illinois…..2027**_

"What you gotta understand is things used to be different. We used electricity for everything: For our computers, cars, medicine. We even used electricity to grow our food and pump water. But after the Blackout nothing worked. Not even car engine or batteries; sickness without medicine; fires without firefighters. People starved. Governments fell and militias rose up. If you were smart you left the city and if you didn't you died there! So what caused the Blackout? So what does everybody thing?"

The overweight man continued his lecture to the minute gathering of children.

"Look I know this isn't as fun as bow hunting or whatever but physics went crazy. But this should bother you. The world went crazy overnight and nobody knows why!"

His eyes peered through the scratchy lenses, noticing a few had begun to nod off. Most of these kids had been born post Blackout. Hell he had been a man of fortune right up to the night the lights went out. But money was as valuable as the rusted out shells that were once Priuses, Jags, and Hummers. Not that it mattered anymore. The world was sucker punched 200 years back into the past. Food had to be grown and harvested locally or starve. Grocery stores were something that people remembered and looked back at with fondness and mourned over. Most had taken their food supplies for granted as electricity sated the growing hunger for exotic foods from the four corners of the globe. Now they were an afterthought.

Ben emerged from the house in the center of what had been a cul de sac. He had been appointed the de facto leader of the peaceful settlement. He and his family had settled there after emigrating from the Windy City as staying would mean certain death. The country offered hope and life. It had been his family at first then others came. Refugees who fled the rising gangs of the cities and the violence that became law saw the gentle man with soft blue eyes. Everyone pulled their weight, planting, clearing or managing the livestock. Some were engineers or contractors in their former lives and together they banded as one cohesive unit. They were in essence a family.

"Morning Ben," Aaron hollered across the road. Ben smiled warmly at his friend. Aaron had wandered into the town, alone and hungry, offering nothing but the means to educate the youth to the best of capabilities. Ben and the others welcomed him with open arms as he now resided in the house at the right corner where he taught the history of the Old World to tired bored minds.

"Hey Aaron," Ben took a drink of his tea. Coffee had become nonexistent after the outage as the routes from South and Central America died when the lights went out. Tea was a better alternative. Maggie had seen to that. "You look terrible."

"I was up all night," Aaron took a short swig of the flask. "I had a raccoon ménage in my back yard."

"Have you seen Charlie and Danny?" Ben turned down the offering in the flask.

"They got up early; they said they were going to go hunting."

"That's what they better be doing." Ben brooded as he walked away. His kids had a bad habit of exploring instead of hunting. It wasn't safe out there. It was how Rachel was killed.

Maggie was a Brit who was knowledgeable in medicine for once upon a time she had been a physician. Her sense of self empowerment had led her to learning more about the holistic and Eastern practices that had been steeped in the psyche of many for centuries; well before the advent of Western medicine and technology. The soft spoken woman had offered Ben companionship after his wife had died. Ben had been alone, despondent even, but Maggie had been his saving grace. Charlie didn't approve of the arrangement but his eldest daughter had no say in his personal relationships. While she would never occupy the spot in his heart that his wife held, Maggie carved a place of her own. She didn't intend to replace anyone but Charlie didn't harbor the same sentiments as the adults.

* * *

Neville sat straighter in the saddle.

His right thigh ached as the chill bit the air around them. It was the harvest season for the Southern communities. He had received a tip that Ben Matheson was located somewhere in one of tiny villages that dotted the Illinois landscape. The townsfolk knew not to deceive any officer of the Monroe Militia or Republic for it had been established that General Sebastian Monroe leveled a heavy violent hand to those who dared and try to mislead him. The elected "mayors" of those independent colonies continued to point in the same direction, the very one that guided Neville towards the last town in what had once been LaSalle County.

His eyes were masked behind the tiny rounded shades, blocking the harsh rays of the sun. His spine had long since ceased aching from the jolting of his saddle. The flaps of his wool coat lightly waved in the wind as the squad turned at the right fork. His body had acclimated to the ever fluid climate of the Republic but that damned wound in the upper part of his leg would never stay silent.

_Be fortunate that Monroe wants you alive….._

The angry snarl looped in his mind like a bad 8 Track tape. That bitch Koch had succeeded in delivering a stinging blow before her short lived break from his unit. The sharp point of flint had pierced the upper right part of his thigh, missing the femoral artery but millimeters. The equally hateful smirk had raised her mouth as she spat back in his face.

_Be fortunate I didn't aim 3 millimeters to the left…..Captain….._

Her hateful retort had haunted him night after night. Monroe had displayed a certain level of concern for one of his highest ranking men but since Neville had not bled to death, his attentions had fallen towards the captive who had been dragged alongside him from Central Wisconsin to their camps in Indiana. At least Neville had received some degree of retribution. But it wasn't enough to sate his rising rage towards the woman. No matter, her time as a fugitive would surely run out and Monroe would have his pet back and Miles Matheson would live to regret the day he had been born.

Matheson had been as equally elusive but Monroe had informed him where there was one, the other wouldn't be too far away.

_Trust me Captain Neville when I say I know them better than the back of my own hands. They won't be too far apart. _

The faded photo still resided in the pocket of his jacket, the only means for which to out the fugitives. It was on a beach, somewhere perhaps in the Carolinas or Florida. Matheson had his arms around her waist in a possessive hold as she was elevated off the sand. Both were extremely happy, full of joy and love. It reminded the older man of his wife waiting for him back home. The youthful vigor displayed between the shallow creases had conjured images of his courtship and subsequent marriage.

But Captain Neville didn't need to refer to the aged picture for he knew the woman's face as it had been seared into his brain. He would never forget the cold hatred that burned in her bright blue eyes that day in the woods. She had taken down five of his men before she landed face first into the rock. Consciousness had inhabited her long enough so that she could penetrate his eyes with the sharp sapphire daggers. It was as if she didn't want him to forget who she was.

The marking would betray her in due time as well.

No one would be stupid or foolish enough to harbor her; no one but Matheson.

Today was the day that Neville would achieve success.

_Once Ben Matheson is handed over to Monroe, Alexandra Koch and Miles Matheson better run….._

_ I'm going to enjoy watching Matheson hang like the common street rat he is….. _

_ As for Koch, I am going to return the courtesy…Only this time I won't miss…_

The image of Matheson kicking and jerking as the noose closed off his throat warmed the man's mind and body though the straight somber expression would have one to believe otherwise. The contingent marched through the wooden gate with an air that demanded attention and respect from the citizens who resided behind it. A dog that was tied up barked at the strangers who invaded its territory while children and women scattered for the protection of their homes while the men froze and tensed at the arrival of the men.

* * *

Ben recognized the insignia and rushed to his friend's side. Aaron stared strangely at his friend as Ben concealed something in his hand and gripped the other's.

"Take this," he pressed the triangular object in Aaron's meaty hand. It was an amulet of some kind that was suspended on a cord. It looked to be comprised of brass or some sort of alloy but that was the least of Aaron's concerns.

"Ben no…"

"Take it! Don't take the main roads because they will be looking for it. Please just do it. Remember what I told you to do. Do you understand?"

"Ben, nothing's going to happen," Aaron was naïve in his response. Surely the men had arrived not to cause trouble.

Ben begged him, closing Aaron's fingers over the device. Aaron could see Ben wasn't backing down and reluctantly accepted the bizarre item. He shoved it in the pocket away from the men's eyes as Ben hurried to Maggie who was standing there watching the armed invaders. Why were they here? Ben had already paid the taxes for the season so there was no need for the unexpected calling.

"Maggie I need you to look out for my kids," Ben suddenly appeared at her side.

"No, Ben don't do this please," Maggie's eyes swelled with the gathering deluge. She had already lost her children and losing another loved one was something she couldn't bear to stand happen again.

"My god…..What a beautiful village." The newcomer commented on the quaint picturesque scene laid out before him.

"There must be some mistake, we already paid our taxes to the garrison," Ben was firm but calm with a hint of submission.

"This isn't about your crops. We're not here with the local garrison. I'm looking for Ben Matheson," the dark skinned man dismounted the chestnut steed and plucked the glasses from his nose. The men who accompanied him brandished rifles and hand guns. Such armaments were illegal for regular citizens to possess in this new existence. But some had defied the Militia and held their weapons in secrecy knowing it was a hanging offense if caught.

"I'm Ben Matheson," Ben stepped up. The man cracked an ominous smile as he came closer.

"Miles Matheson is your brother and Alexandra Koch is your sister in law correct?"

"Yes but I-I haven't seen either one in years. I have no idea where they are."

Ben knew Alex would head to Chicago as Ben had told her when the world crashed to go there as Miles would hopefully have the smarts to follow. If she was there she would be safe as hiding in plain sight would be an advantage.

"I am in search of them as well. I come here on orders of Sebastian Monroe, General of the Monroe Militia and President of the Monroe Republic. You have no idea how long I have been searching for you. I have searched through dirt and filth. I have been away from my wife and my bed so you can see I am in a mood. It would be in your best interest and the interests of this town to cooperate and get in the back of the wagon without any resistance."

Neville tugged at the leather gloves then subtly drew back his jacket showing the gun that lay in the holster. It was a means to intimidate but Ben wasn't buying into what the man was selling. He didn't need to invoke unnecessary fears into the people he had sworn to keep safe.

"Why is this necessary? I don't understand."

"Do I have to repeat myself Matheson?" Anger simmered beneath the surface. "Get into that wagon or so help me I will conscript all of your children and re-educated them to forget who you are."

The tense smile lit up Neville's face once again. "Are we clear?"

Everyone felt the tension spreading out like a violent storm. Guns were loaded while hands held farm tools, prepared to lash out if necessary.

"Alright," he nodded and took a step in the direction of the waiting wagon. The black scorch marks of the Republic's insignia gloated as Ben continued on. Rumors of the manhunt for the Matheson Brothers and Alexandra Koch fanned through the farming lands like a summer prairie fire. But the rumors sadly materialized as truth as Captain Tom Neville stood in the center of the cul de sac. He prayed Alex and Miles were safe.

"Ben," Maggie rushed to his side.

"It's going to be alright," he assured her but she wasn't accepting one syllable.

"No, no it's not! Ben…."

"You can't have him!" Danny stood with his feet hips' width apart. In his hands was a crossbow.

"Danny," Ben held up a hand towards his son. "Put it down."

"I take it this is your boy?" Neville didn't hide his distaste. Lovely, an adolescent who thinks he can play hero. Perfect! Just what Neville needed!

"Just please go away and leave us alone," the teen quietly pleaded with the captain. A militiaman trained his gun on the boy, not caring if Ben stood in the way. His hands began to waver and tremble as he knew his actions were treasonous. But he didn't care! They weren't taking his dad away!

"Put down the weapon," Neville was harsh in his warning.

"Just forget about him and please leave us be," the teen didn't pause and kept his whimpers of mercy.

"Tell him to put his down first!" Ben jerked his head to the right as Caleb brandished his own rifle. Neville's temperament was shortening with every passing second.

"You realize possession of a firearm is a hanging offense." Neville curled his fists up then down.

"Caleb," Ben bemoaned the escalating situation. Now they would surely suffer greatly for this!

Neville retained his cold but calm demeanor, even as Danny fired off the arrow and the first crack of gunfire opened the gates to slaughter.

**Note: Alex and Miles aren't married like the Militia and Bass assume as such. But Ben doesn't know that either and assumes if they found one another then they more than likely did. Think of it as more like common law for those two :)**


	5. Tragedy- Central Illinois Part 2

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but Alex…The rest belong to Kripke & Co (DAMN THEM!)

**Again I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, is following, or has favorite this story!**

* * *

_**Central Illinois….2027**_

Charlie charged through the woods back to the village. The sharp crack of gunfire had rudely ripped her from her daydreams. Her pride refused to subdue itself causing her to run off from her home. Her argument with her dad about Maggie's role in the family had sent her over bringing her to her favorite spot, the old Ferris wheel just beyond the gates. Now she was racing back with everything her legs would expand. The skies were littered with the cracks and snaps of firepower, sending her mind through a litany of scenarios. Had her dad been hurt? Had it been Danny? Oh god what if it was one of the children?!

Neville stood as his men opened fire on the civilians. His was pounding like a steel drum as the gunfire thundered overhead and alongside him. The boy, Danny, had ignited the fire with the first shot, drawing the blood of one of his men. Ben had been hit in the chest before the man fell. Then that foolish simpleton, Caleb, had shown is own illegal arms opening fire on the same man. Now there would be retribution. Smoke wafted through the air as the men shot at anyone they could aim at, most grazing or inflicting non serious wounds. But the others, the lucky ones, mowed down the men and yes women who dared to rise up against him. Ben Matheson had fallen, struggling to retain his breath without letting his life slip away. This was not what he wanted to transpire! It was supposed to be a simple arrest and that was it. Now there would be bloodshed; unnecessary bloodshed.

He calmly drew out his handgun, pointed with fluid motions and shot the three men and one woman who dared to strike out against him. The man Caleb had been blown away, literally, by one of the rifles. Those who used their farm tools were gunned down without the slightest hesitation. Neville had killed before and would kill again. The laws were quite clear.

"STOP!" He shouted over the screams and guns, earning everyone's attention both militia and civilian. "ENOUGH OF THIS!"

He replaced his gun and pointed at Danny who was huddled over his dad. "He goes."

Two of the surviving men roughly grappled his upper arms, prying him and Maggie apart. Aaron held her back as she kicked the dirt screaming Danny's name over and over. But it was futile.

"Danny! No!" Danny fought back, jerking and twisting his body, resisting the two with the vice like grip. He felt the air lift around him as he was thrown into the back of the wagon like some commodity. His wrists were bound by iron shackles, kept in place by the iron bar along the interior.

Charlie raced through the gates, feeling her heart drop as the reality of the situation settled in like a toxic fog.

"Dad!" She dropped to her knees, horrified and sick at the blood. His shirt was soaked and hands were painted in the bright cherry hue. There was so much blood. Her body numbed as the pressure of his hands covered hers.

"Charlie," he gasped and coughed. The hole in his chest slapped open and closed with each ragged breath creating a wet squishy sound when punctured flesh glided against itself.

"Where's Danny?! What happened?!"

"The Militia took him," Maggie was cradling his head in her lap, knowing he wouldn't last much longer. She had seen what a bullet can do to a human body if it severed the right arteries and organs. Right now her mind began to materialize the image of the bullet shredding the left lung and pivotal arteries. Ben was choking to death on top of the substantial loss off blood. His skin was pale and growing clammy aside from the dried crimson on the sides of his face from where Charlie's hand had pressed against it.

"My brother Miles and Alex….." Ben had to tell his daughter. He could sense it, the end. It was dawning over him like the sunrise of hours before. "They're at the Grand in Chicago. They will help you find Danny."

"No," Charlie felt her chest constrict as the tears streamed her dirt caked face. She shook her head refusing to accept the fate that was about to be passed. "You're coming with me. We'll catch up to the soldiers and get him back!"

"I can't," Ben smiled sadly at his eldest child. "The Militia will kill you if you go after them. You have to locate them. You have to do this for Danny. You need to be strong like your mother. Now go find them….."

"Dad," Charlie was helpless to stop the light as it dulled his once shining eyes. The faint pulse that had been reassuring moments prior was silenced for good.

The dead were honored and buried in a short but touching ceremony in a field just beyond the gate. They were gently clothed in sheets that served as burial shrouds then placed upon a platform embraced with a crown of tinder. Family members eat accepted a torch and lit the pile beneath their loved one before tossing the burning bit onto the gathering flames. It was better this way. The animals wouldn't be able to desecrate their remains had they been buried in the ground. A few would let the ashes scatter into the wind, returning to the earth as part of the natural cycle. For some it was a cleansing of the soul, ushering it towards whatever plane of existence they believed in. But all agreed they would rebuild and rebound.

The fires raged into the chilled night air, glowing with such intensity any nearby village could see the bright orange. Hell, anyone could see the fires now that lights were gone. The light breezed ferried the stench of burning hair and flesh like fallout. Some gagged and choked on the suffocating fumes but everyone stayed until the dancing towers of orange and yellow shriveled to harmless embers that illuminated the smoldering heap of ash. The scent of death clung to her hair clothing and skin but Charlie ignored it. Death would shadow her now that she knew what needed to be done.

Charlie had been the last one to leave, wishing to be left alone as she didn't want to abandon her dad. First it had been her mom and now her dad. Danny was gone, maybe being tortured or worse. Why would the Militia want him? Why did her dad have to die? How was she going to know where to find Miles and Alex? She didn't even know what they looked like! But she would find them and they would help her get Danny back. Family didn't shut family out in times of need.

* * *

Alex sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the photo between her fingers. It was of her Miles and Bass, taken outside Parris Island in South Carolina. It had been a very warm summer afternoon when the random tourist had snapped this. It was right before she had hit the waves, wanting to catch some of the swells that were rolling off from the hurricane that was several hundred miles off shore.

_"I don't care guys! I can't surf in the Mississippi! Besides I know how to get out of a rip current. Been there done that remember?"_

Miles had been concerned about her risk taking but Bass had dismissed it as well.

_"Relax Miles! I'm heading out there right alongside her. Don't worry! I'll keep her safe!"_

The fondness dominated the thin smile that lifted her lips. Bass had lived up to his promise.

_"Oh my hero…." Her eyes rolled up then down good naturedly. _

She wondered what would've happened had the lights stayed on? She would've been in South Carolina the next day, greeted by Miles and Bass. The day would've been spent tangled in sheets as the night would've been packed with food, booze and whipping the boys' ass at pool. Then the rest of the night…..More sex.

The pain seared her heart as she replaced the crisp image back in its hiding place. Alex mourned for the times now gone, of when the world was wired tight as one. She could pick up the phone and text or call Miles when she wanted or send him wicked photos when she knew he was feeling down.

"You alright?"

Alex shot her head up as Miles hovered in the doorway.

"Yeah," she pushed off the edge. "Just couldn't sleep that's all."

"Was it another nightmare?"

Alex shook her head but Miles wasn't so sure. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the calm rhythm of her heart against his fingers.

"Just couldn't sleep." She shrugged dismissively.

Miles studied her eyes, noting the emptiness that reflected back. He was afraid she would slip back to the recesses of her mind, the places he couldn't reach her. It had been in the forefront of his mind ever since that day. Miles had maintained a sharp eye on her, not letting his vigilance falter.

"You're tired Alex. You haven't slept right in the last few days. Come on.''

"I told you Miles I can't sleep."

Miles didn't adhere to her objection as he pulled the blanket back the swept her up off the faded Oriental carpet.

"Nope," he pressed his lips together.

"I'm not 16 Miles!"

"You're right, you're not. But that doesn't stop me from doing this."

"Put me down," her words didn't harbor much strength but then Miles already knew that. Alex hated to be fussed over. It was one of the reasons he loved her. She could hold her own as the poor bastard had learned when he tried jacking with her.

"As you wish," he dropped her in the center. "Now I am not leaving until you go to sleep."

"You won't be leaving for a long time then because….."

"I know," he sighed, "You can't sleep. Who said I was worried about time?"

Miles dipped down on the bed, shifting over where Alex was on her side. The disbelieving stare made him lightly chuckle. He paused to tear the long sleeved shirt off and shake the partially soiled jeans aside.

"I know what'll help you sleep."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. This ought to be good.

Miles carefully turned her around pressing his naked chest against her back. During a visit to Parris Island, he had discovered a trick to get her asleep. Some of his unit had returned drunk and rowdy, waking Alex up and keeping her up. It was more a relaxation method to quell her simmering anger or else attempt to explain to his CO why half the unit had been hog tied and gagged. Although the idea of having seen Bass roped like a pig with a sock shoved in his mouth would've been worthy of Facebook since he had returned "slightly" inebriated on more than one instance.

"Just relax and shut your eyes," the soft nip against her neck earned him a short yelp that was muffled in the pillow. The pinch of teeth was quickly replaced with a soft kiss to the spot.

"Did you have to do that?" The irritable tone made him shortly laugh. Irritability or not she liked it.

"Mmmm hmmm," was the only answer she would get. Knowing he wouldn't say any more, Alex closed her eyes and sunk her head deeper in the pillow. Miles started with her arm. The light pressure molded and turned the tense fibers, forcing them out and enriching them with sweet oxygen rich blood. If this didn't get her asleep he didn't know what else would short of funneling whiskey down her throat. Alex wasn't keen on the cheap grade whiskey she passed across the bar to waiting patrons opting instead for water. Sleeping pills were out of the question as the last one in his possession had gone to Alex when she had first returned. It was worth it as far as he was concerned. Watching the serene expression that lit up her face was reward enough for him.

Next was the back of the neck and shoulders. She rolled over at the nudging in her back and let out a large exhale of air. A few crackles along her spine sent Alex further along the road of serenity. She could feel the cords of tendon unwinding as Miles pushed the heels of his hands along either side of her vertebrae. It was a domino effect: Once the tension alleviated in one place it fanned out soothing the other tense areas of her body.

Miles smiled down as he felt her body go limp, a sure sign that sleep wasn't too far behind.

"I'm good," the groggy voice croaked.

"Are you sure? I can keep going."

"Mmmm hmmm," Alex shifted over and onto her side then scooted over until she could wrap her arms around him. Miles patiently waited for her to maneuver around finding her head nestled in his chest blocking the candlelight out. "This is perfect."

The oversized shirt slipped over her shoulder, allowing for her breast to slip out. The pert nipple peeked innocently from above the hemline, staring straight at Miles. His hand reached up tugging the thin layer back over the perfect mound.

"If you wanted me…..Why didn't you just say so?" Alex's eye shot open. Miles felt the blood rushing to the surface of his skin, particularly his neck and face.

"I was actually….."

"Right," she lifted her head and upper body up, once again exposing the stray breast. Miles didn't have sex on his mind but the low seductive purr and partially clad body was going straight to his groin. His hand reached out, carefully cupping the beckoning piece of soft warm flesh. Alex tilted her head back at the sensation of teeth and hot wet tongue lapping at the sensitive nipple. She melted beneath him, letting his hands wander and covet whatever they desired. His hand slid up inside the shirt, feeling hot skin awaiting his touch.

"Oh my god…." She groaned and snapped her hips.

"Beautiful," Miles whispered. His lips brushed over the other breast, teasing the nipple with a small puff of breath. The shirt had been discarded and now lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Miles pushed the elastic waistband of the boxers past his hips and calve, desperate to feel her soft hot skin against his. His mouth latched onto hers, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. They battled for dominance as teeth and tongue locked together in a sensual dance. He pressed her down into the center of the mattress, lifting her hips off the bed as he slowly eased in.

He couldn't believe how wet and tight she was as he rolled his hips up then along hers. The guttural groan rumbled in his throat, his mouth and tongue unable to form a single word. But then again were words really necessary? Instead he cradled her close to his body, staring down into the half lidded eyes that were brimming with lust, need and love.

He swore he wouldn't last, not with the quiet whimpers and sweet delicious friction grinding against his cock. The slick velvet constricted around him, milking the receptive member with each steady thrust. Her breathing quickened and pulse raced as her body couldn't restrain the rising surge any longer. Alex gasped and arched her back off the mattress, fisting the comforter as her body convulsed.

"Harder…." She panted. Miles grunted and thrusted, feeling the wonderful heat fanning across his cock as she snapped her hips down. Did she know how beautiful she was when she writhed beneath him like this? How his heart raced when she came all over him, claiming him as hers? God how he loved it! It consumed him like a fire! Alexandra was his perfect drug.

Miles fucked her harder and faster, not caring if he would have bruises. He needed to claim her, make her his all over again. No one was ever going to touch her again. Alex lifted her legs higher up his waist, welcoming the thick heat that penetrated her body.

_Mine….._

His head was spinning, blurring his sight. His body shook, the last of the orgasm waning from his lower body. The joints in his arms buckled and relented bringing him down on top of her sweat laced body. The sheen created a glow about her that lifted the years of pain and hurt from her eyes and mouth. Alex lifted her head, meeting his slightly parted lips halfway, taking the time to taste his lips and tongue.

It was moments such as these neither one took for granted. Each time just as important as the previous one.

"I think I can sleep now," she grinned sheepishly.

"I bet you can too," Miles smiled back. He took her hand and linked with his two larger ones, brushing his slightly dry lips across each knuckle. There was no way in Hell he would lose her to Monroe again.

His eyes wandered over her body, spying the few moles that dotted the light olive skin then up and towards the hand he held. The silver band with sapphire sat perfectly on her ring finger.

_"Miles what is this?"_

_ Miles next to her on the couch as she stared blankly at the velvet box. _

_ "Open it."_

_ Anticipation surged through her veins as her fingers flipped the lid up. _

_ "Oh my god…." Her eyes were wide with shock. "Where…"_

_ "Before the lights went out, when you were supposed to be in South Carolina, I wanted to ask you…."_

_ A few sniffles made him look up to see her wiping her eyes and nose. _

_ "Alex what's wrong?" She waved her free hand. _

_ "I'm not sad Miles," she forced a smile. "It's just it's so beautiful. This had to have cost you a fortune!"_

_ Alex gasped at what she had just uttered. _

_ "Does it matter now?" Miles plucked the ring from the box and placed it aside. _

_ "No," she shook her head at her foolish words. "Not anymore."_

_ "I know the world is a different place now Alex but I swore that when you came back I was going to give this to you."_

_ His fingers guided the slender band over her finger until it came to rest at the base. _

_ "I would've said yes," she confessed. "I know you were always worried about how I would handle deployment or moving around but I didn't care. I mean come on, this is the same girl who was accidentally left behind in the Appalachian Mountains for a week and made it to a ranger station on her own."_

_ Miles felt the burden alleviating off his shoulders. He had been all worked up and anxious over nothing! That night in the car with Bass, his friend had been right. _

"Miles she'll say yes. I mean seriously! She loves you like a fish loves water! So at the beach you drop down to one knee and pop the damned question!"

_"And that would've made me the happiest man in the world."_

_ "And you're saying you're not happy now?" She pouted playfully. _

_ "I never said that," he dragged her over across his lap. "The day you came back was the happiest day since the Blackout. I was so scared you wouldn't return."_

_ "And I thought I would never see you again either."_

_ Alex leaned against him, slowly closing her eyes and listening to her lover's heart. Miles rested his chin on the top of her head and ran his hand up and down her back. If Monroe got his hands on her again it would be worse than death. Monroe would make certain she paid for her escape and disobedience._

* * *

"I swear Alex; I swear I won't let him rip you away from me again."

Miles was bitter in his declaration. Monroe would not succeed.

**Angst, smut, and fluff...Now we get down to business! **


	6. Chicago 2027 - Part 3

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but Alex (Though she'll argue that she owns Miles and Bass will argue he owns Alex!)

**Okay now kiddies I stayed up late finishing this! It's a long one!**

_**Somewhere in Illinois…..2027**_

"You know when I expected to walk I didn't expect my feet to hurt this much."

Charlie and Maggie both lifted their heads at Aaron who was cringing as he worked his fingers around the swollen aching masses that had been his feet when he left the town. He regretted not wearing a thicker pair of socks or even a second pair before leaving. But now he was paying the piper for his lack of oversight.

"So what did your dad tell you about your uncle Miles and Alex?"

"Not much," Charlie shrugged, "He knows how to kill people….well."

"That's really reassuring," Aaron groaned. "What about the other one, Alex?"

"The only thing Dad would say was that she was with my uncle before the Outage and she was in Saint Louis. All I know is we have to find Danny and they have to help us."

"Right," Maggie was tired from the trek through marsh, swamp, woods and prairie.

"So when we reach Chicago how will we know we found them?"

Aaron had a point. None of them knew what Alex or Miles looked like. Family photos were left behind, a casualty of the Outage and the exodus from the city.

"We can hope."

Nate had been silent. His deep eyes observed the small contingent gathered around the fire. He had told them he was traveling to Chicago to find work on a fishing crew. Well, he had been speaking in partial truths. He was going to Chicago but not for work.

_"You find them and bring to me ALIVE."_

General Monroe's words echoed in his ears. The chill in the man's voice left little room to question what his intentions were once Miles and Alex were captured. It was a shame though. Charlie seemed nice but she was naïve. She had argued with the blonde one, Maggie, about letting him come along. She was hesitant about the raven haired tag along as in the new world no one could be trusted. Her case had been proven by the bandits that tried to rob and rape Charlie inside the abandoned plane. But then he had arrived piercing the bastard in the heart with one clean shot while the other two had been served up their last drink. No questions were asked about his sudden appearance though Maggie seemed suspicious of his heroics.

_I have to stay focused on the mission. I don't want to know what Monroe will do if I don't come back with them. _

He shifted on the bed roll with front facing the soothing heat of the fire. Tomorrow they would be in Chicago. Tomorrow would be the last day of freedom for Miles and Alex.

* * *

Alex decided to open up the place and let Miles sleep. Surprisingly she had awakened before him but it had been known to happen. With the Browning tucked in her jeans away from curious eyes and Bowie strapped along her side, she headed down the stairs and towards the bar.

The regulars didn't show up until after 10 which was funny considering clocks and watches were worthless. But if the Ancient Egyptians and Greeks could keep track of time then so could they! The sundial that rested in the center of the grand staircase read 7 in the morning if she had read it correctly. Also the sun had yet to make it appearance over the Eastern horizon. So 7 it was.

The candles and torches came to life with the tiny flame guarded in her hands. There was a chill in the air reminding her of how much she missed central heat. The winter winds off the lake penetrated the cracks of the wooden boards which was aided by the open and closing of the main doors. Today she would see if her experiment had been a success or failure. She had been desperate to create a wine since wine was her poison in the old days. The small wooden cask had been sitting for a few years and today was it. Miles was going to be her guinea pig only he didn't know he had been conscripted to do so.

"Ah, I see someone finally got their ass out of bed," Alex turned to see Miles at the end of the bar.

"Whatever," he grumbled. "I was sleeping well until someone snagged the covers."

"You know I do that," she busied herself with wiping out a few spots on the glasses. "You've known that since the first night you crashed with me so therefore you cannot bitch."

"So what's in the keg?"

"Oh," she cracked a wide smile. "That is my creation."

"Oh boy," he sighed as the tell tale grin curled her lips upward.

"It won't be that bad I promise," she snagged a wine glass and turned the valve letting the bluish violet river flood the waiting vessel. "Here," she presented it with arm outstretched. "If you don't like it then we'll test it on the regulars. They're not picky."

Miles groaned and accepted the glass, studying the surface then lightly sniffing around the edges. It smelled okay. It wasn't harsh like some of the rot gut that surfaced from time to time. He took a small sip of wine, pondering the initial taste. It was sweet and easy on the tongue. Alex anxiously waited for him to swallow. The Adam's apple bobbed as he consumed the swirl and nodded approvingly.

"Damn," he was impressed. "That's good."

"Then we keep it to ourselves," she draped a cloth over the keg as the sun rose higher through the slats along the East wall.

* * *

Nate led the way as the skyline of Chicago cracked the horizon. The neglected shell of a stadium rose to their left.

_Wrigley Field_

_ Home of the Chicago Cubs_

Charlie knew that name. It was one of the buildings on the Chicago postcard she had tucked away in the old Return of the Jedi lunch box. The flash of metal and the relics contained within sent a sharp punch to her torso as she remembered that was back home. The home she had to leave behind after her dad had been murdered and brother taken away.

She suppressed the emerging pain and focused on the road. A boat was dry docked while its crew lovingly tended to its hull. Vendors adorned the street pedaling random wares that mingled with fresh produce and some meats.

"Hey look out," Aaron pulled her back as two women smacked the cracked avenue with fists flying and hair being ripped out. Nate cleared the rolling tangle of limbs and torsos, snagging an apple along the way. He used to hate the damned things growing up but now that they were more of a luxury in some parts of the Republic his palate had evolved and the once shunned fruit was a delicacy. Charlie couldn't but help to notice how graceful and fluid the boy's motions were. The turquoise shirt was tight and hugged the sharp biceps and triceps that were sculpted from that bow and arrow no doubt. He had saved their lives and she was grateful for his presence.

"Hey, I remember this place," Aaron glanced up at the fragmented sign overhead.

_The Grand_

"You know this place?" Aaron nodded as Maggie caught the sign.

"I got married here." The larger man started up the steps. "Only it wasn't run down and didn't look like something out of the Old West either."

No one laughed or even acknowledged the lame ass joke that Aaron had attempted to pass. No one was really in the laughing mood as they ascended the steps and pushed the boarded over doors open.

The bar was bathed in candle and torch light. It was something from the Dark Ages. One corner of the spans of pillars and worn furniture were a few clusters of patrons laughing and drinking it up. To the right it was darker and more foreboding as it wasn't treated to the same amount of fire light as the opposite side. Then there was the bar. Behind the counter was a woman with dark hair, possibly brown or black but the lighting wasn't so great. A slightly stretched black shirt accentuated her toned arms and collarbone that peeked from the neckline. She appeared to be at ease behind the long oak bar. The catcalls and whistles of the patrons had been blocked out by everyone as most of it was alcohol induced.

"Hey John!" She hollered across the room at no one in particular. A burly man who reminded Maggie of a throwback from the 60s broke away from the camaraderie long enough to snatch the tumbler from her waiting hand. The man nodded with genuine gratitude before turning back to the parade of jokes and story swapping. The woman simply sighed with a fondness that could be described on the level of a sister looking over her younger brother. The rag slung over her shoulder was tarnished with shades of rust charcoal and perhaps blood.

"Do you think she knows where Miles and Alex are?" Charlie whispered to Nate.

"Let's hope so," he answered with equal reservation.

"Excuse me," Maggie took the first leap. The woman spun around on her boots to show off the defined jaw and piercing blue eyes. Maggie swore they were like icicles: Sharp and deadly.

"How can I help you?" She finished off another round for the table two rows down.

"We're looking for a few people and perhaps you can help us."

The woman leaned forward with her elbows on the bar.

"Alex and Miles Matheson," Charlie burst out. The woman just stared at the odd group like they had just spoken to her in Latin.

"Sorry Kid," she went back to bar tending. "I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Well perhaps you know someone who does," Aaron chimed in.

"Again, see answer number 1," she kept her back turned to her interrogator. "Besides what is this, the Spanish Inquisition? I told you I don't know who they are."

"No that's impossible. They have to be here," Charlie refused to give up after traveling for days. She wasn't going to let her dad down or Danny down.

The woman shot back around with eyes narrowing to a pair of ominous slits. "If you're Militia so help me god. You won't find what you're looking for here. I don't appreciate having trouble in my bar so go, get out before I have to remove you myself."

Nate just laughed at her threat.

"What's so funny Pretty Boy? You don't think I can do it? Would you like to see a demonstration because buddy I would be more than happy to show you."

"Look we're not here to cause any trouble," Maggie pleaded softly but glared at Nate.

"Please," Charlie felt her emotions begin to surface. "If you know anyone who knows them please tell them that Miles's brother Ben is dead. He was murdered by the Militia."

The woman stopped and dropped her head. Of all the people to waltz into her bar…..

Her head suddenly snapped up with eyes lined with suspicion towards the group. The pressure of her knife was leaning into her right hip. It wouldn't take but two seconds to spray her bar with their blood. The Militia could have easily dispatched spies as that was one of their best known tactics.

"You," she pointed at Charlie. "Who are you?"

"I'm Charlotte, Charlie….I'm Miles's niece."

The woman sighed and took a step back giving the rag tag group a better look at her.

"You're Alex?" Charlie's mouth dropped open like a fish's.

"Not much Kid," Alex spread her arms out. "I'm nothing great."

"Well where's Miles?" Charlie scanned the faces and bodies.

"You," Alex crooked her finger at Charlie. "You come with me and you only."

"Now hold up," Nate pulled out his blade and flashed in Alex's face. Alex was unimpressed. Stupid cocky bastard! "You aren't going anywhere."

Alex tilted her head to the right keeping his eyes on her. Her left hand shot out catching Nate off guard. The sharp flick of the wrist and twist of the right hand and the blade was perpendicular to the jugular.

"You don't order me _boy_," she emphasized the last word. "She's Miles's niece. You have no say in this mattered. So stay out of this."

Alex drove the blade in the bar, maintaining her hateful glare towards Nate.

* * *

"Miles," Alex hollered as they reached the area that was their private quarters. Miles was at what had been the VIP lounge helping himself to some aged bourbon. He turned around to see Alex approaching with a strange young woman. Alex looked ill the closer she approached.

"Alex," Miles pointed the hand with the drink in Charlie's direction. "Who's this?"

"She's your-"

"Niece," Charlie cut the older woman off. "I'm Charlie, Charlotte. I'm your brother Ben's daughter."

"Is that so?" Miles's reception was chilly at best.

"Like I told Alex, my dad was murdered by the Militia and they took my brother Danny."

"And you're here why?" He wearily eyed his long lost family member.

"Because my dad said you would help me get him back and uh….and then he….."

"Sorry," Miles's sympathy held the warmth of a corpse. "I wish…"

Alex leaned against the leather chair with brass tabs as he assumed the seat.

"Look, why did Monroe want my dad anyways? And why is he after you two?" Charlie innocently inquired. Alex and Miles traded worried glances forgetting that there was a third person in the room.

"Allow me to cover this one," Alex squeezed Miles's shoulder. "Monroe has this funny idea that your dad, myself and Miles knew something."

"Knew what?"

"How and why the world went dark and possibly how to flip the switch," Alex didn't sugar coat her words. "He isn't the most stable human being on the planet. Look if Caligula gets the power back on that means factories, tanks, and planes and all kinds of destructive means. That means we are all royally screwed."

"He'll march across the continent and butcher the other republics," Miles finished with a dismal note.

"And I'll die before that happens," Alex curled her fingers into the top of the chair. Charlie caught the distant glaze washing over.

"Alex are you alright?" Miles craned his neck around and leapt from the cushion.

"Sorry," she gritted her teeth and winced. A tear squeezed from the tight corner of her eye. "Sometimes I have these moments…."

Miles set the tumbler down and guided her to the chair. Charlie had no idea what she was walking into. This, this was the tip of the iceberg. There was no way in Hell she was going to go back as Monroe's whore. She would rather drink oleander laced whiskey before that happened.

"She's alright," Miles ran his hand up and down her back. "She had an illness and sometimes she has relapses."

"Will she be okay?" Charlie thought back to her brother and his asthma. Danny would hyperventilate and cough until Maggie treated him with the nasty smelling plants concoction.

"I'm fine Charlie," Alex waved her hand. "It will pass. Now, you were saying-"

"So what do we do now?" She stood there waiting.

"What do you mean we?"

"What are we going to do to get Danny back?" Charlie was hopeful as she stood there. There was no way they were going to back out of this. Her dad swore they would help her and they were going to do just that.

"What does she mean 'we'?" Alex felt her chest wheezing. "I hope she means the three back in the bar because no way. I can't and won't do it. I'm sorry Kid."

"Why? Why won't you help?"

"Well in case you haven't noticed we're trying to stay incognito here and I'm not about to let Alex go wandering around out there like this."

"No, no you can't do this!" Charlie trailed the pair as Miles fetched the tumbler and passed it on to Alex.

"We can and we will," Miles shook his head. "Your brother is bait! If we go and take it things will end terribly for him and us. And I for one would like to keep my insides on the inside."

"I second that," Alex had uncurled in the chair. She could feel the constricting finally breaking away.

"NO! No look! I-I have lost everyone I care about! My mom and dad are dead and God knows what they are doing to Danny right now! So you two are going to help me get him back!"

"Speak for yourself Kid," Alex took a long hard drink.

"You have to!" Charlie demanded. Her lip trembled as she was taken aback by their coldness towards her plight. Why wouldn't they help her!?

"And why is that?" Miles couldn't wait to hear this.

"Because we're family that's why."

Alex just shook her head with sadness. This kid really had a heart but it wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell against Monroe.

"Kid, I don't even know you," Miles was right. He didn't know her.

"Yeah, you're right," Charlie stormed off grabbing her bag along the way. "It was stupid of me to ask either one of you. Sorry I even came."

Miles watched as she marched out. What did Charlie expect? She had no inclination about the past or what either one had endured.

"That one's a real firecracker Miles. She definitely takes after you."

"Funny," he snorted.

"Come on," Alex finished off the glass and dragged her body upright. "We better catch up before she does something dumb or worse."

* * *

Alex jogged off trailing Charlie out to the main bar.

Maggie spotted Charlie and the crestfallen expression.

"Charlie what's wrong?"

"Nothing, let's just go," she waved off Maggie's concern. "Just get your stuff and let's go."

"No, what is it?" Nate came up beside her after spotting the anguished reaction.

"Let's just go right now," she insisted and went for the door. Nate spotted Alex heading straight for them and went to meet her head on.

"Hey, hold on," Nate shoved his hand in her face. Alex felt her anger surging. This little prick didn't know when to quit.

"Step off Pretty Boy, this isn't your fight," she warned him. Her hand curled around the handle of her Bowie.

"What did you say to her?" Nate wasn't stepping off. He challenged her with his bold stance and demanding eyes.

Miles hurried in time to see Alex jerking Nate by the wrist and yanking his sleeve down. The raised design of the Militia was burned into his wrist.

"I had you made the minute you set foot in my bar. So what, now Monroe is sending pretty boys to do his dirty work? You know you were always good at conning people you bastard."

"Alex," Miles caught the gleam of the blade as it went to her throat. He froze a few steps away as Nate sneered and moved his forearm forward. The younger man knew Matheson wouldn't dare and risk her life.

"Still the same asswipe as before," Alex took another shot at him.

"You know I almost didn't recognize you; what with you wearing clothing."

Her eyes went wide as he retracted the blade and rammed his head dead on with hers. Alex fell back grabbing her head as Nate retreated with bow and arrow in lock position. The air turned heavy and tense as the man was uncovered as one of Monroe's. Miles wanted to rush after him but the short kick against his shin snapped him out of the blood rage.

"Alex," Miles knelt down beside her.

"Ow," she didn't open her eyes right away as the pain was so great even the low level of the fires were like direct sunlight. "That mother….."

"Here, let me see," he carefully pried her hands away and ran his fingers over her neck. The tips were dry which he was thankful for. "He didn't cut you."

"Damn it," she hissed. "My head is killing me!" Alex rolled on the dirty tile, wishing for death at this point. This was worse than any migraine she developed before the Outage. Jesus that prick had a hard head!

Miles hoisted her up in his arms and whisked her away towards their private quarters.

"I can help," Maggie caught up with them. "I'm a doctor."

"Alright," Miles nodded as the vanished into the back.

* * *

"She might have a slight concussion but her pupils are normal."

Maggie continued examining Alex who was stretched out on the lounger. A cool cloth was draped over her head. Alex swore her entire skull was going to rupture through her skin as her brain pulsated unabated against her skull.

"First chance I get I'm cutting that dick's throat," Alex growled.

"Uncle Miles I'm sorry," Charlie hastily apologized. "We didn't know."

"He was probably part of the same unit that took your brother."

"No Miles he was part of it. There was no probably in it." Alex kept the cloth pressed to her forehead and began to sit up.

"No," Maggie pressed a hand on her shoulder. "You suffered a head injury and you need to rest."

"Alex," Miles admonished her. He looked over at Charlie who was guilt ridden. "Thanks to Lover Boy we've been made. He trailed you from the get go to flush us out and he did just that. He'll go out and find the nearest squad and be back here two maybe three hours tops."

"Well then once Alex gets better come with us. Please! Why stay here? Neither one of you are safe."

"And whose fault is that? Your boyfriend's fault that whose fault it is! So if I were you three I would leave now."

"Uncle Miles please…..You can't just leave Alex like this. This is crazy! You two just can't stay here and die." Charlie couldn't believe it. He would be willing to let Alex die like this?

"I'll be just fine," she sarcastically noted and shot a thumbs up. "Miles you have that Scotch in the cabinet?"

"Come with us! You don't have anywhere to go now," Charlie continued her beseeching.

"Go," Miles turned away from them. He looked at Alex who was watching the scene with a silent but intent interest.

"Wait," Charlie stepped up.

"I SAID GO!" Miles slapped his hands on the splintered surface. He didn't move as Maggie Aaron and Charlie collected their things and rushed out the door. "GET OUT OF HERE NOW!"

The rustle of shoe and boot against the tiles went quiet leaving him in silence. Well, for a moment.

"You know she's right," Alex sat up letting the cloth drop from her face. "It's suicide staying."

"Not you too Alex," Miles's shoulders dropped and head shook back and forth.

"You know they're coming right now. I'm not going back to him. You know what he's capable of when angered. I have the scars to prove it."

"Where are we supposed to go?" He offered the scotch to her. Alex greedily gulped it down hoping it would numb the pain.

"Anywhere but here; but knowing you it's not an option."

Alex sighed and stumbled against the columns and counters for support. Miles quickly caught up and latched his arm around her waist.

"You know we're gonna be outnumbered."

"Uh huh."

"And we may wind up dead."

"Yep."

"So let's make sure we take as many of those sons of bitches out as possible."

Miles swung the doors open to reveal the arsenal of blades. Knives, daggers, swords and even a Clayburn were perched along the soft plush interior. Each one tenderly cleaned and sharpened then locked away. Alex picked the dual Katana blades from the right door. They were her favorites as they fit easily in her grip and were light enough to manipulate with little effort.

"Let's do it."

Miles nodded and placed the blades on the counter. His body swallowed her smaller unsteady one. They were headed off to war and their survival was grim.

"No matter what happens, know that I have always loved you."

"And if we die at least I die with the one I love."

Their lips met in a lost kiss, feeling the emotion surging between them. Each regrettably withdrew silently reveling in one another's presence. Alex rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Death was kinder than Monroe.

Just then the front doors groan as they were forced open alerting the pair they were no longer alone.

* * *

"Are you sure they're here?" The captain gave the vacant bar a once over. "They could be long gone by now."

"If they are, Monroe wants them alive," Nate entered and went ahead. The squad followed the younger man through the open space and into the back part of the hotel.

Nate was the first to spot them at the top of the grand stair case.

"Come on down," he called out. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Right," Alex called out.

"Well we don't want to hurt them," Miles clutched the brass knuckle handle. "But you can't have us. You just let us go and let us drink ourselves to death. You can tell Monroe we pulled a Romeo and Juliet."

Nate laughed at his pathetic excuses. Alex stared him down with blades crossed in front of her chest.

"Now you know we can't do that. Monroe wants you two alive."

"I know," Miles withdrew his blade as Alex twirled hers around. The sharp blades carried their battle cry through the air.

"You're gonna have to fight us," she gestured with one blade towards Nate. "And after what you did I feel like a little payback is in order."

Nate rolled his eyes. She hadn't changed. The fire that Monroe craved and lusted after was still there.

"Take them," the captain ordered. "NOW!"

"Bring it on boys," Alex grinned as Miles wondered briefly if she would be able to hold the onslaught off.

He was about to find out.


	7. Chicago 2027 - Epilogue

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but Alex (Though Miles claims he owns her and Bass claims he owns her!)

_**Indiana…..Unknown Time….Post Outage**_

Alex gathered the sheet closer to her chest, leaving her backside exposed to the door. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. She curled into a ball, shutting out the cold that slithered through creaky floorboards and drafty windows. She wasn't sure where she was but suspected Indiana or Ohio perhaps. The rain had begun sometime during the night, pelting the double pane glass with its wintry mix of pellets and drops. The fire roared in the grand chasm of brick and mortar yet Alex drew the blanket tighter around her chin. She thought of Miles and the subtle warmth of his touch. God she missed everything about him!

The door clicked then swept open followed by the sharp crossing of boots. Alex didn't move as she didn't have to look to see who her visitor was.

"Alexandra," the voice whispered thickly in her ear. The light caress of a finger along her jaw caused her to involuntarily shudder. The mattress dipped down as Bass pulled away the thin layer of cotton allowing the sharp chill to wash over her skin. Alex willed her tears to subside before rolling around to face her captor. Bass reached for the cover, slowly sliding it down before pausing below her hips. The marks that Strauss had inflicted several weeks prior had faded to shallow lines that shined like scales in the sun.

"Why do you fight me? Have I not been a gracious host?" The touches intensified circumventing the juts of her hips then dipping along the flesh between her legs. Alex tilted her head back and arched off the mattress, silently cursing her body for reacting in such blatant display.

"I'm a prisoner Bass. You keep me here against my will."

Her eyes were closed as Bass continued running his fingers over her side then up her breasts before playing with her throat. Her skin was smooth and surprisingly soft despite her exposure to the harsh climate of Indiana. Her hair was a little longer now but he liked it like that; it was easier to fist and hold when he was rough with her. Alex didn't fool him. He could see how she loved it when he dominated her body and soul.

"You're not my prisoner Alex." The wet hot tip of his tongue danced along her ear, playing with the lobe for a moment. His lips brushed down then up her neck, pausing to rest atop the powerful pulse.

"Please Bass," she whispered. "Let me go."

"Never," he started fondling her naked breasts, pinching the pert buds that erected atop the soft mounds. The hisses and gasps betrayed her pleas. "You're mine."

"I will _never_ give you up." His voice darkened, rumbling in his chest and throat. Miles would never see her again. "Remove them."

Alex was rewarded with a painful twist of her hair. The strands strained against her scalp, threatening to sever from her skin if Bass dared to pull harder. Bass watched as her face contorted and twisted in pain as he applied just a little more pressure….

"Please, let me go." The beseeching was more hiss than words.

Bass dropped his grip allowing her to tuck her legs underneath before pawing at the wrinkled slightly soiled shirt. Alex felt dirty, like a cheap whore as she tossed the disgraced garment to the floor. No soap or bath that existed could ever cleanse her body of his vile touch. The red welts from her nails had testified to that over and over. Her fingers obediently went for the belt, whipping it through the brass buckle with ease.

He knew what was needed to continue breaking her, to pacify her just enough while she retained the fire that lit her eyes. Just one look at those deep burning rings and the need took control.

"On your back," he towered over her. Alex complied and came to rest in the center of the bed. Her dark hair fanned out across her head over both pillows. She couldn't stand to look as the pants rustled then landed with a thud on the floor. Already her eyes started to tear up as the weight of his body lowered on top of her. The weeping erection rested between her legs, twitching at the sensation of tight hot flesh rubbing against it.

_If you give me what I want I won't hurt him if he's alive….._

Alex was growing uncertain about his sworn accord to leave Miles unscathed if he was caught alive. Bass had changed, morphed into a cold calculating bastard that slaughtered whoever stood in his way. Alex had witnessed the atrocities with her own eyes. Homes had been torched while men were gunned down as they dared to challenge the militia. Women were corralled like livestock allowing the high ranking officers to pick one or perhaps more for their sadistic blood lust. The screams of the dying haunted her everywhere she turned. It was as though someone had reached into a mirror and summoned the dark side of his soul.

"Relax," Bass cooed in her ear. He saw her lip quiver and quickly latched his mouth over it then smothered her mouth with his. He pushed his tongue deep into her mouth, forcing her to accept the wet hot offering. The weeping tip teased the tight entrance, smearing the resistive flesh with the thick droplets of precome.

"That's it," he lifted her legs and drove them against her chest as he forced his way inside.

"No….Please…."

"So good," he groaned and thrusted. "So good to me…."

Alex damned her body for responding to the intruding thickness, feeling the pain erode into pleasurable warmth that simmered in her lower body. She hated him for this! Hated him for turning her body against her like this! Hated him for the pain inflicted upon her. Hated him for using Miles against her. Her memories of Miles were perverted as the same intimate warmth she coveted with her dark haired lover was kindled with her tormentor.

"I love it when you resist," his hips pumped harder. The burning walls of flesh had constricted around him, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He was drawing close….so damn close. Bass stopped leaned back enough to bring Alex's legs down on the mattress. His fingers teased and stroked her inner thighs, coaxing them apart. The sharp rings of ice watched with burning desire as she writhed and fisted the blanket.

"Damn….you…." she panted. Bass just chuckled at her hollow threat. The sudden pressure on her clit made Alex shriek and arch her back off the bed. The protruding mound was swollen and inflamed, perfect for what he was about to do. The greedy lips latched onto her flesh, suckling it slowly. His tongue dipped into the tender offering, lapping up the sticky sweet ambrosia. Her quiet whimpers of protest grew distant as they were consumed with the cries of pleasure. Alex felt the tears streaming down her face as she couldn't hold it back. Bass moaned and pushed his tongue past the silken folds, hungering for more. It was better than the finest bourbon that had graced his lips and tongue. Her legs went wider as her body craved him. The thick muscle that was his tongue ran along the hypersensitive mound, sighing happily as she bucked her hips against his face.

The lashing of his tongue carried on for several minutes more, prolonging the the powerful orgasm that ripped through her body. Bass pressed his lips against her body before pulling back then sprawling down on top of her. He licked his lips clean of her taste, finding himself shivering in reaction. He would never tire of it.

His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly off the bed as he slipped back inside. Saliva blended with sex and precome, lubricating his member as he pounded harder against her. He wanted her to see him at the moment he exploded, filling her with the thick heat as he climaxed inside.

_So close….._

His throat rumbled with a deep possessive growl as took one final breath and felt the tension purging from his body. Alex was forced to watch the euphoria that overwhelmed his features, making her ill as he took pleasure in her suffering.

"Mine," he whispered.

"No," she protested.

"Always….Mine…." he slammed his body with enough force to break the blood vessels that resided beneath her skin and creating a series of bruises that would surface the net day. The thrusting abated but he stayed inside. Sweat beaded on his face and neck, shining in the light. Bass reached out, running his fingers through her hair. The first time he had stroked the soft tresses of chocolate silk his body had been charged with sexual lust and need. The rest of her body had been as equally sweet to his touch.

"Do you know have any idea how beautiful you are?"

Alex didn't respond and looked away.

"You continue to fight," he forced her chin back the other way. "I love it when you fight."

Her eyes welled up again, a now common reaction to his masked words.

"Tomorrow we begin another campaign," he continued and ignored her pain. "You're coming with me. It's to be a lengthy one."

Alex nodded knowing she had no choice.

"But don't worry," his fingers brushed her neck in a comforting gesture. "I won't let them touch you. Anyone who does will pay. Wouldn't you like that? To be out of this cold drafty building?"

"I-I don't know," she shook her head. "I haven't been out since I was brought here."

"Well that's about to change. You make me a very happy man when you give me what I want. But when you disobey me….Well you understand."

"Yes," she winced at the invasive pressure along the hideous trail that marked her back.

"I don't like hurting you Alexandra," regret noted his voice. "But you must understand. I have to know. I need to know."

"I haven't seen Ben," she wearily told him again. "When I arrived in Chicago his home was abandoned and looted. There was no indication of where he went. I have told you this Bass. Please….don't do it. Have I not given you enough?"

Bass contemplated his next act. Alex had been unwavering in her responses, even when under duress from Strauss's methods. She had screamed the first few times his tools carved into her warm skin and muscle, inflaming nerve and cell alike. Bass had been there, watching with a cold expression. Resistance ringed her eyes as he questioned her over and over.

_"Where is Ben?"_

_ "I don't know!"_

_ "Where is Miles?"_

_ "I haven't seen him since the Blackout! That was when I saw you! Bass please! You have to believe me!"_

_ The air ran through gritted teeth as the blade cut into her hip. It was growing evident his basic methodology wasn't wielding the desired results. _

_ "Perhaps some incentive will jog your memory."_

_ Bass turned around to the box that sat on the table. It was locked with an antiquated keyhole to which he held the key. Alex didn't see him retrieve the collar from the spotted velvet interior as her head was tilted back in the futile hope to alleviate her pain. He smiled with fondness as it had been one of his own who dreamed of this little gem. _

_ Strauss nodded and stepped back as his CO approached. Alex took a deep breath and brought her head forward at the instant his gloved hands came forward. _

_ "This is something special," he nodded to Strauss who gathered her hair up and away from her neck. "When a prisoner breathes out the blades that are inside," he pointed at the sharp edges protruding from the leather, "Slice into the skin."_

_ "No," she pleaded weakly. "Please Bass….."_

_ He leaned in pulling the strap around her throat. Alex breathed with shallow puffs as the biting blades pressed against her skin. _

_**Chicago…2027….**_

The squad charged the first flight of steps with Miles lunging forward, greeting one with instant death. His blade ran through the man's chest, piercing his heart with a swift thrust. Alex launched over the marble railing, landing on the bookcase.

"Get her!"

Two of the squad drew their guns firing at their target.

"Monroe wants her alive!" The captain screamed. Alex grinned and halted her run, turning on her feet with blades singing in the air. From the corner of his eyes, Miles watched the two fall at her feet as the blood streaked Katanas skewered them both. He was occupied with four of the goons at the current moment. They came at him swinging their swords like those paid actors at the amusement parks. Three went down fast; one was crushed by the heavy weight of the Greco Roman bust while the other two were sliced like Thanksgiving turkeys.

Alex used the case for leverage as the solid tip of her boot broke the nose of one, sending the jagged bit of bone into his brain. Death was instant as his cooling corpse crumpled to the ground. Nate shook his head as one by one the men fell to Matheson and Koch. It was evident he had been training her in the Militia's fighting tactics. Her kicks and punches were delivered with fluid disciplined movements, cracking bone and crushing muscle beneath the soles of her boots. She commanded the swords, gathering their respect with each swing.

Miles darted up the steps as the captain ordered for the remaining men to open fire on him. Alex darted for the case where the remaining blades were held, trailed by a new pair of soldiers. The F-S Fighting Knife shined as its way of calling her out, eager to taste blood. Her hand snatched the solid ring gripped handle in her free hand. The shorter soldier was arrogant enough to lunge first, seeing her as a woman and not a fighter like he was. The 11 and a half inch blade plunged into the center of his chest, cutting the heart cleanly into two. Her wrist snapped back but the blade was stuck, buried to the hilt in the man's chest.

"Shit," she muttered and spun around letting her weapon remain in the body. The other, a taller fair skinned man, wrestled her from behind, closing off her throat as she struggled against the trunk like arms. The blood was draining from her face as a violet blue tinge settled in as the grip tightened even more. Alex felt her knife nudging her hip, reminding her of its presence. The man lifted her up off the ground letting her feet brush the dirty tiles.

Miles heard the dry choking sounds but the circle of soldiers surrounding him was closing in. He couldn't reach her!

_Not again! No damn it!_

His hand went for the hidden crossbow, hitting the largest man in the chest with a sharp stake of wood. He didn't die immediately and began to choke and drown in his own blood. His victor was short lived as the rest rallied together then pursued him once again. The swords of the Militia matched his in power and stature but Miles was master when it came to superiority. His sword continued its death song as it graced each man with the kiss of death. Miles caught one by the throat as he lost his footing mid spin. The great hall crackled with the snapping of the man's neck.

Alex could detect consciousness fading and knew it was life or death, now or never. Her hand ripped the knife from the scabbard and tore into her attacker's side. The man released her giving her the leverage she needed as her hips pivoted and wrist twisted the serrated blade from his side. The next time it met his body was when jagged edges severed the jugular unleashing the reservoir of deep crimson. Blood pumped across the hall, painting the old artworks with a shiny coat of iron and tin.

"Grab her!" Nate shouted. Half of the remaining men went for Alex as Miles continued to slaughter the others. His fighting styles stayed dangerously calm and cold. His moves remained calculated and deliberate. His eye caught Alex as she had freed herself from the ox who now was sprawled on the floor dead. Blood had fanned underneath his body and head where the chasm across his throat stared up and at everyone around him. Now she fought off three more showing no signs of slowing down.

Her right boot slammed the sternum of one before she rammed her Katana backwards and into another's abdomen. Alex smirked and twisted the blade sharply to the right, feeling it vibrate as the man convulsed and shuddered. The third one sensed an opportunity and sidestepped to the left, digging his elbow into her spine. Alex felt the air purging from her lungs in a hurried rush. Her vertebrae were jolted with a sharp stab where bone collided with bone.

"Damn it," Miles turned for the stairs but two of the Militia blocked his path. Three more had appeared, cutting him off from the upper levels. His sword extended upward, ready to defend if attacked. He could feel his heart pounding, blocking his hearing even as Alex was just a few feet away. He was helpless to watch as the man fisted her hair, dragging her to her feet. His massive paw for a hand slammed into her smaller one, knuckle first, forcing the Katana from her grip. Her arms clawed furiously at her captor but he simply laughed at her feeble efforts.

One of the men, the archer of the group, raised his arm which was shielded with a metallic guard, prepare to hit Miles in the shoulder when a half choke bubbled in his throat. His knees buckled dropping the rest of his body to the ground. Miles saw Charlie standing behind him, her crossbow clutched in her hands. Trading a brief look with her uncle, the girl took off with two of the surviving men in immediate pursuit. Miles felt the momentum swinging in his favor and cut his arm in front of his chest, lopping the head from the neck of the man. It rolled with a series of dull thuds until it bounced off the tip of the captain's boot. The last man standing expended everything he had, succeeded in slicing the back part of Miles's shoulder. The grimaced in reaction but retaliated in kind. The captain shook his head as one man now breathed.

Miles vaulted over the rail, charging with rage in his heart. The pain in his shoulder went unnoticed as adrenaline quelled the throbbing of fiber and cell. The captain drew his sword, leaping between him and his hostage. There was no way he was returning empty handed.

"Get her outta here," he snapped. The man nodded and pinned one arm behind her back, causing Alex to scream and arch in response. Her legs planted to the tile, refusing to budge at the man's command.

"Bitch," he growled and sucker punched Alex in the kidney. Her howls of pain fed Miles's rage as he blocked and lunged against his last foe. The captain continued to battle back, nearly taking Miles in the side but missed by millimeters. He cursed the failure but fought on, finding the attacks Matheson delivered were coming faster and harder. Miles hollered out as he charged the captain, clashing his sword against the center of his foe's. The other stumbled back losing balance as the blow came as a surprise. Miles spotted the blade in the dead man's chest, the F-S Fighting Knife. He dove down retrieving the blood slick weapon, hoping his aim wouldn't miss.

The F-S pierced skin, flesh, bone, and tendon with the tip protruding on the other side. Blood poured around the double wound, draining down the pale neck and turning the black uniform an eerie blood black combination. His attention returned to the scuffle beyond the doors and raced towards the sounds outside.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Maggie helped Alex to her feet.

"Asshole punched me in the kidney and the back. Ow…."

"Sit here," she helped the smaller woman to the chair.

"Not a problem," she sighed and felt the pressure alleviating off her tender backside. "You kicked ass." She looked at Aaron as well. "Both of you."

Miles rushed in to see Alex slumped in a chair with Maggie looking her over.

"Join the party," she smiled lazily at her lover.

"Where's Charlie?" He noticed the auburn haired one missing.

"Here," she appeared from the right. Charlie left out the bit about Nate killing one of his own men in order to save her. After the heated exchange of barbs between Alex and Nate it wouldn't be wise to tell the older woman about his bizarre act of mercy.

"You know I didn't ask you to come back," Miles removed his jacket for Maggie to examine and suture the stab wound.

"Don't look at me. I wanted to let you rot," Maggie bluntly responded. "But Alex would've been another story."

"Then why did you?" Miles felt confused. If they wanted to go then why come back?

"Because we're family," Charlie added. "And that's what my dad would've wanted."

"Sure why not," Alex winced through the next sharp stab in her head. "I need a little fresh air."

"Kid, you're gonna have to tone it down if you expect us to come with you."

"You two are coming?" Charlie couldn't suppress her giddiness.

"Your boyfriend's only going to send more goons," Alex exhaled. "It's best if we go…..Even if this was the one real home we had."

Alex reached out for Miles who collapsed his hand in hers. His thumb lightly ran over the top of her hand as she continued. "But then again who ever said home had to be a dilapidated hotel in Chicago right?"

Miles knew it was going to be difficult for her as The Grand had been her home. Some of the regulars had developed a fondness for her that was brotherly or sisterly in nature. The one called John had taken care of a transient that wouldn't take no for an answer from her. Sure Alex could hold her own but John had insisted, telling her that it was ridiculous she would have to put up with douche bags like this and have to fight them off. That night the gang had rounds on the house.

"I can get our bags ready. You stay there or else….."

Alex sighed and stayed seated as Miles headed off to pack their measly possessions.

"Yes sir, Sergeant sir."

Miles shook his head at her barb knowing it was in good humor. It might be a while before that humor resurfaced.

"You do realize that we will be up against Monroe and several thousand of his goons right?" Alex darted her eyes between the three. "These guys will shoot first ask questions later."

"Yes, we're well aware of that," Maggie retorted.

"Just warning everyone in case they forgot that wonderful detail." Alex spotted the Scotch on the counter. "Hey Aaron, could you pass that over here?"

"Yeah sure," Aaron handed the full tumbler over. He grabbed his wrist to steady his unstable hand. "Here ya go."

"Thanks," she gulped the dull amber swirl, finding it burning her throat as it trickled down. Miles returned with two bags across his back. He paused and stared at Alex who simply lifted her arm and offered the glass.

"Might as well," she shook her hand. Miles produced the silver flask from the front pocket of his bag then grabbed the heavy glass along the way. He topped off the former then finished off the Scotch in the latter. Charlie assisted Alex to her feet who flashed a small grateful smile.

"Miles," she called out. "Come on."

He held up a finger then returned to the bottle that was about a quarter full. He unceremoniously poured the last of it out and imbibed the last Scotch in Chicago with one deep swallow. His eyes scanned around the place he and Alex had called home for so long. His heart dropped at all that they had built together but there wouldn't be anything to left to build if Monroe wasn't stopped. Slamming the glass down he hurried to catch up with the others.

**Wow this one took a while to write! As you can see, Monroe is a double edged sword when it came to Alex. cato-lover28 has asked if she loved Bass at any point or if she was only in love with Miles during the entire time. All I will say is that answer will be revealed in due time. **


	8. Illinois 2027 Part 1

_**A/N: **_I only own Alex (Though Bass and Miles both claim they own her)….The rest belong to Kripke and Co…Damn them!

**I gotta say that the support has been surprising! All of you kick ass!**

* * *

_**Illinois…..2027**_

"Okay Miles, where the Hell are we going?" Alex felt the strain of her brain throbbing against her skull. Her back ached where that goon's fist pummeled her kidney. She feeling rather cranky and emotional but dismissed it as a result of the injuries she continued to heal from. Her vision would blur every now and again but said nothing to the others. She didn't want to alarm a single one, especially Miles. He was already on edge after the bloodshed in Chicago which had opened the proverbial Pandora's Box.

"We're going to Pontiac," he continued to carry her bag despite her objections. "If we're going to find Danny we need help."

"And just what is it in Pontiac that's going to help us?" Charlie inquired.

"Not what, who," Miles took a deep breath knowing Alex was about to hear something that could upset her. "Her name is Nora, Nora Clayton. She likes to make things blow up and she's damn good at it."

"So," Alex stabbed the earth with the walking stick she picked up outside of Chicago. Her eyes trailed the random rock and spring of grass that crossed her path. The stick kept her balanced as they trudged through a shallow patch of marsh. "This Nora…..Did you two…."

Miles hesitated, wanting to choose his words wisely. But he knew the past wouldn't stay hidden forever.

"We got close but…."

"You don't have to tell me anymore," her sideways look reached his shameful gaze. "You probably thought I was _dead. _In a way I was."

"Someone want to fill me in on what's going on?" Charlie spoke up from behind them.

"I think I need to sit down," Alex sought the massive tree that had fallen to her right and eased onto it like a degenerate. The deep grimace in her face indicated the extent of her plight, betraying her rouse. The ground beneath her began to sway then spin as the next onslaught gripped her body.

"Alex," Maggie went into physician mode. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Alex blinked and shifted her eyes up then down before focusing or rather attempt to hone in on the three digits inches in front of her face.

"Well….I see two Maggies and six fingers. And that is my final answer Regis."

"This is not good," Maggie softly handled the side of Alex's head, noticing the woman's pupils had dilated. "Her head injury may be worsening."

"Nah, you're wrong," Alex slapped away her hand. "I'm just tired that's all."

"Again your head injury may be worsening." She looked up to Miles who was growing more worried by the second. "We need to rest. Alex needs to rest. I'll see what I have in my bag."

Maggie rustled through her pack as Aaron decided to take advantage of the lapse in walking. His feet had swelled yet again but it wasn't as severe as when he first left home. The whoosh of breath purged his lungs as he leaned against the partially rotted stump.

"I'm not angry," Alex shook her head. "I didn't think I would escape Monroe. I mean I tried before but every time his hand was so cold…..so hateful….."

"Wait," Charlie knelt down. "You know Monroe?"

"Knew him?" Alex snorted. "Charlie, I knew the bastard in a very intimate manner. But it wasn't by choice. I was in Wisconsin when the Militia caught up to me; just like wolves trailing a wounded deer."

"I didn't know," Charlie shook her head.

"Don't be sorry Kid," she leaned her head back resting it against the tree. "It was before your time."

"We need to stop here," Maggie spoke up. "Alex needs to rest."

"We need to keep moving. I'll carry Alex. The longer we stay near Chicago the higher our chances of being caught by the Militia."

"Really?" Alex groaned. "Can we for once not have a goddamn pissing contest? I'll walk."

Alex flattened her hands and started to push her body up. As her legs cranked to a ninety degree angle, her hands slipped as the moist bark crumbled under the pressure.

"Alex," Aaron caught her under the right arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she leaned on his solid but cushy frame.

"This is why we need to stop," Maggie stood face to face with Miles.

"And if we stay we get caught."

"Aaron," Alex looked up at her new friend. "Would you?"

"Yep," he hoisted her up on his back piggy back style. She was light against his back which he was silently grateful for.

"Hi ho Silver away," Alex patted his head which Aaron simply shook his head. He couldn't see the wide grin that was plastered across her face.

"The concussion's getting to you."

"Nah," he earned another pat. "Just trying to keep my mind off things."

"Well I think Alex is ready to go," Charlie glared at both the Brit and her uncle before leaving to catch up with the odd couple.

"There," Miles gestured, "See we both got our way." He added a tiny smirk to which Maggie rolled her eyes in response.

* * *

The man in black continued tracking his prey. The prints were still fresh. They weren't too far ahead; perhaps a day or two. Monroe had put a substantial bounty on the pair that no man could ignore its seductive song. The woman was to be unharmed but nothing was mentioned about Matheson losing a limb….or two. He had received a tip from one of the Militia's spies that Matheson and Koch had been in Chicago only to vanish before he could arrive.

But a minor setback didn't dishearten him.

He perceived it as a challenge; a hunt.

The sun was now at the midday setting, uncovering the tracks heading south. He knelt down allowing his hand to ghost over the largest set, presuming those were Miles's. The second set, the smaller ones, were without a doubt hers. Three other distinct sets trailed parallel to the couple's and assumed correctly his query wasn't alone.

"No matter," he pulled the gloves back on, "Once I have them, the others will scatter like roaches."

His uniform was similar to the Militia's but lacking the patches identifying Monroe's units. He preferred such attire as most people made it a point to avoid those who even looked like militia. His sword was Militia standard issue. He chose to trail the long abandoned tracks, using the rail cars to camouflage his movements. In his previous life he had been a cop and a damned good one. But the Blackout changed all that. Now he was employed as a bounty hunter, offering his skills and services for the right price. He was a freelancer, working for the highest bidder which normally was Monroe. But this time he was working for himself.

There had not been a presence of any other hunters or Militia which made him grin with glee. While word had been spread far and wide he had the lead. He felt like a wolf stalking the herd, licking the air as the scent of its prey created an invisible road for it to stalk. His stride quickened for he refused to let any scavenger seize the prize that he had painstakingly hunted down with precision and patience.

* * *

"I think we need to stop here," Miles spied the clearing of dry land surrounded by a sea of marsh and swamp. A narrow neck of land connected the peninsula to the rest of the world; the perfect place to stop for the night. He had grown deeper in his concern for Alex. She had been quiet since Aaron had hoisted her up and hauled her through the maze of oak and evergreens.

"Alex," Maggie started examining the quiet woman as Aaron gently lowered her on the ground.

"Present," she groaned. Her pulse was calm and steady but her pupils remained dilated. "My head doesn't hurt anymore."

"Well that's a good sign," the Brit nodded encouragingly. "Perhaps the vessels around your brain have decreased in swelling."

"Aaron, your constant jiggling cured my headache," she leaned back against the rock. "Now we know how to cure all headaches!"

Aaron wasn't sure if he should be offended or flattered. He decided to go with the latter. Miles worked a few bits of tinder and grass, creating the sparks that would emit life giving warmth and light. He lifted his head up towards Alex who was staring at nothing in particular. She rubbed the side of her head where a bruise had started materialize. He wanted to talk to her about Nora but it wasn't the time. She had been put through enough already.

"Here," Maggie passed some dried meat strips over. "It's venison jerky."

"Thanks," Alex was timid in her bites to avoid aggravating her head. The texture was slightly chewy but it erupted with flavor. Her taste buds danced in elation over the infusion of long missed sensations: spicy, sweet, and hints of sour. Her mouth salivated in reaction as she savored each bite. "Maggie this is excellent!"

"Don't thank me," she gestured to Charlie. "It's Charlie's creation."

"Well Charlie you can make a killer jerky."

"Thanks," the younger girl smiled shyly.

"You know you were pretty bold back there." Alex's eyes sparked in the light of the flames. "I underestimated you."

"You're family," Charlie countered. Her face winced slightly at Alex's observation. Alex had expected them to pack up and move on in Chicago.

"That seems to be your theme," Alex lightly laughed. "I suppose that isn't a bad thing."

Miles said nothing. He sat opposite of Alex, watching her interact with Charlie. Watching her smile like that lightened his own mood a notch. But they couldn't let their guard down. Their enemies were everywhere. He knew the bounty hunters would scour the Republic, keeping their noses to the ground like the dogs they were.

"So how are we going to do watch?" Aaron looked expectantly to Miles.

"I can do the first rotation," the older man offered.

"I can do the next," Maggie refused to be left out.

"Alright," Miles nodded. "I can wake Alex up through my watch and if something's wrong I'll let you know."

"Perfect," the Brit went to rolling out her bed roll. Aaron rolled out his bed followed by Charlie.

"Alex," Miles got up and went over to her. He knelt down blocking the fire from her body. His eyes studied her face as she looked back with tired ones.

"Your name is Miles Matheson," she smiled. "I know where we are and we're on the run from Monroe and his merry band of goons."

"Well you're not delusional," he began to stand, offering his hand to which she clutched tightly. She saw he had spread out his bed roll. "That's a good sign."

"Good to know," she allowed him to hook his arms under her arm pits, bringing her upright. Miles locked his arm around her waist as he led her towards the waiting bed.

"I think I can sit down," she proclaimed her independence but continued to cling to Miles as she lowered herself down. Alex stretched out before the fire, Feeling the heat penetrate her aching body. Her back was protected with the solid wall of Miles's body, encasing her within the invisible shield of warmth.

"I feel tired," she yawned.

"You heard the doc," he spoke over her shoulder. "I'll have to wake you up during the night."

"I know," she sighed and closed her eyes. "It's alright."

"Well get some rest," he kissed her cheek. Alex was already asleep. Miles watched the hypnotic dance of the flames as they consumed the tinder that lay buried below. He wanted to tell Alex more about what happened in the time she had been missing but his fears silenced him from doing so.

* * *

_**Wisconsin…..Unknown time post Blackout**_

The snow was thawing.

Alex squatted down alongside the narrow creek, holding her water canisters under the lazy current. She would filter it later once she found a steady place for the next few days. The majority of the cities or rather the rusted shells of what survived the Blackout had been brought down by the earthquake along the New Madrid. It was ironic how something she had been hollering about since the first day she set foot in the office had been insult to injury. While a few bridges had survived the shakeout, the remaining behemoths were clogged with cars abandoned some time before.

_It was like being in the 1811 and 1812 quakes! _

Alex had been in Davenport when the earth awakened. The massive arm of metal and concrete that conquered the Mississippi held fast, a testament to modern engineering's legacy. But the damage had rendered it dangerous, causing the mayor of the community to condemn the gateway on the Davenport side of the crossing. Alex had stayed for several days, assisting in sheltering and caring for those who made it through. For every one that made it, three died from injuries and disease. Cholera had threatened to explode in the close cramped quarters. She couldn't let that happen.

Together with the town doctor and mayor, they cordoned off the symptomatic and established a clean channel for water.

It had been the mass casualties that were the hardest.

The bodies had to be burned, to stop the spread of the pestilence. The faces of the loved ones left behind had been imprinted into her mind, still fresh as she sat there alongside the creek. Some wanted to bury the dead but the town's survival was at stake. The doctor had intervened, using her powerful words and gentle voice to persuade the resistant citizens.

It had been hard to depart the town a few days later. But Alex had to move on, keep away from populated areas. Whispers of the Monroe Militia being on the hunt for her had not gone by unnoticed. Alex had used false identities for she couldn't trust anyone. Who was a spy? Who was a friend? She couldn't say for sure so she deceived all she met. It killed her when she met the genuine folk; the ones who would keep her true identity quiet if she told them. But it couldn't be risked. No one else should suffer. Alex was no stranger to the Militia's capabilities for she had witnessed the aftermath of the units that marched without respite. It made her ill and bitter. She would curse Monroe for his heinous acts and ruthless tactics as she buried the dead or tended to the survivors.

"No can know who I am," she whispered under her breath.

Now she rose and stuffed the canisters back in her bag as her feet crunched against the slushy mess along the bank. Alex wasn't for sure where in Wisconsin she was but hoped to reach what had been the Canadian border within a few days. Monroe wouldn't dare come after her up there for he would have to trek through part of the Plains Republic and they loathed Monroe. And it was for that exact reason she traversed the direction she did. Crossing the Mississippi closer to its headwaters had been simpler than attempting to cross at the wider breaches further south.

If she could reach the northern boundary, Alex would be home free. Then she could regroup and resume her search for Miles. Yes, that is what she would do.

Alex kept to the low grounds while returning to camp. It had been too dangerous to set up by the creek with the unseen ground and rocky surface. The clearing a half mile up was free of snow and she was nearly there.

Suddenly, the rustle of boots and horses whining forced her to duck behind a large tree. Slowly and carefully Alex peered around the impressive trunk catching sight of the Militia members. It wasn't one of the large units but still formidable nonetheless. Most were faceless foot soldiers whom were willing to serve a cold hateful bastard like Monroe as some were conscripted and others had nowhere else to turn.

"The fire's still smoldering," the dark skinned man on horseback barked. "She hasn't gone too far!"

Alex flattened against the tree as she knew who the one on the horse was.

Tom Neville continued to scan the countryside as his men began to fan out like fingers on a hand. Alex heard them to her right and left, closing off several avenues for escape. It would take just one of them to come upon her hiding place behind the ancient oak and it was over.

Her bow and quiver were strung across her chest with one arrow left. It was going to have to count.

Alex carefully lifted the hand crafted bow over her head then twisting her arm around and up to fetch the arrow. She loaded the weapon and shut her eyes, taking a deep breath before taking aim.

Neville twisted his torso around just as Alex emerged from the tree line. Her slender arms lifted up and leveled the flint tipped arrow at her target. His black steed bucked up on its rear legs, spooked over sight of the woman. Her eyes narrowed as her arm went back then with an eerie calm released it. It sang while gliding through the crisp air, piercing Neville in the upper thigh. The razor sharp arrowhead sliced the skin and muscle cleanly. But it stung like a thousand bees.

Alex turned on a patch of mud but gained traction as she fled into the woods. Several goons took chase like bloodhounds with Alex as the fox. She stayed on the flat grounds, avoiding stones and water where she could. Her heart pounded adrenaline into her body, fueling her fatigued legs and lungs with fresh stock. Neville was following on horseback with the arrow still in his leg. He knew to remove it could spell certain death. The pain was second thought as his anger suppressed the body's reaction. He wanted Koch. She was going to pay.

Her feet pounded through fresh and muddied powder which concealed the stone the size of her fist. It protruded through the ground catching the tip of her right boot as it came down. Alex went flying, landing into a cushion of virgin white. Immediately the goons had pounced on her like a wounded animal, pinning her arms in their vise grips as the harshly dragged her off the ground. Patches of snow clung to her cheek and neck, delivering a biting cold to her exposed skin.

"Be fortunate that Monroe wants you alive," Neville didn't attempt to mask his disgust.

"Be fortunate I didn't aim three millimeters to the left….Captain."

The twisted sneer crossed her face as she taunted the injured CO.

"Bring her here," Neville pointed to the ground beside him. The good little foot soldiers obediently brought the woman to him. The cold venomous stare met his equally hateful gaze as Neville leaned over as far as his injury would permit. His arm snapped across his chest, striking Alex with his tight fist. Her head snapped abruptly to the right under the power of his blow. Alex felt the yelp die in her throat as her trachea turned with the rest of her head. Her vision went black at the moment of impact but gradually resumed as she reeled from the growing ache below her eyes.

"If Monroe didn't want you in one piece…"

"You'd what? Beat up a woman? Oh you're such a man Neville."

This time the other side of her face was treated to the same response.

"You took out several of my men in Missouri. You are not a woman. You're a murderer."

"Says the bastard who lines up men in front of their families and executes them without a second thought."

Neville glared burning daggers at his prisoner.

"Tie her up," he tossed some rope. "She walks to Indiana."

Alex felt her brain pummel the inside of her skull as the thin strands of rope bit into her wrists. Neville secured the other end on his saddle before tapping the sides of his horse. He snapped the rope forward, causing Alex to jump a few feet. Her bow and bag had been confiscated and thrown in the wagon. Monroe would want to see it. Anything in her possession was to be turned over to him personally.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRR

Sebastian Monroe was perched at the edge of his desk when he caught the sounds of horses and commotion outside his quarters. He stood straight and retracted the flaps behind him as he laid eyes on the contingency arriving. The pale rings of ice searched the mob of faces until they found what they sought.

Neville dismounted and took the rope back from the private.

"Move," he growled as she resisted initially. Alex scoffed at his command but froze when she saw him.

"Hello Alexandra," Monroe softly greeted her.

"Bass," she felt her body tense under his presence.

"Captain Neville you are dismissed. Your achievements are greatly appreciated."

"Thank you Sir," Neville limped away as his pride had been wounded as well.

"Did you cause that Alexandra?" The man's limp didn't go unnoticed by Monroe.

"What if I did?" She gritted her teeth. Monroe reached out, gently raking his fingers across her cheek.

"You always were a strong woman. I admired that about you you know."

"I'm flattered; really I am."

Monroe whipped his knife from its resting place, pausing to let it shine in the partial rays of the sun. Alex backed away but Monroe still held the ropes. The wind picked up causing her to shiver as she prepared to meet Death head on. But to her shock, the knife went into the dry but resilient bindings.

"You must be tired, hungry," he jerked the final frayed strand away then looked into the confused pools of cerulean. "And you must be cold."

For a moment a peek of the old Bass had surfaced but it was silenced.

"Please," he curled his hand into hers. "Allow me to tend to your needs."

The idea of food and fresh clothes was too hard to turn down. Her jeans were caked with mud, her shirt had been ripped from tripping over multiple stones and rocks.

Monroe concealed the tiny smirk as he led his "guest" into the wondrous warmth of his quarter.

**Neville is such an ass! Monroe got his prize...**


	9. Illinois 2027 Part 2

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but Alex (But Miles and Bass will argue that one tirelessly)…..

**I apologize for this LATE update! But with the hiatus over and a few spoilers I read have helped the Muse along...**

_**Illinois…..2027….**_

"Maggie, for the last time my head stopped hurting."

Maggie could see Alex was lying through her teeth as the blatant grimace that crossed her face spoke volumes.

"I can continue and besides if I can survive being dragged for 500 miles behind Neville and his merry band of goons with snow rain and sleet pelting me, I think I can manage this."

Maggie simple smiled sadly at the younger woman's defiance but it wasn't going to cure the concussion any quicker. She admired Alex for her steel resolve and ability to offshoot her pain but it would make things worse.

"Alex," Miles cast a stern look.

"Miles," she fired back with anger though secretly Alex pined for a dose of morphine or Oxycotin; something, anything to deaden the pain. Secretly she missed the availability of painkillers and yes antibiotics when she had been with Monroe. This was teetering on agonizing.

"Sounds like someone is getting back to their old self."

"No," Maggie shook her head. "Irritability is a symptom of a concussion or rather getting upset easily."

"Does anyone know where we are?" Alex looked with a sudden blank stare that dulled her eyes. Miles traded a distressed glance with Maggie who was equally troubled.

"What do you mean Alex?" Miles knelt down getting closer to the hollow rings that resembled a child who held a sense of innocence and naivety.

"I know we're in a swamp but where is it?"

Charlie and Aaron stood by, hoping Alex would snap out of it. Aaron feared that without any working facilities she was all but guaranteed to take a sudden dive in her condition. It was the sensation of helplessness that sparked the sickening overtures that dominated the pit of his stomach.

"Alex," Miles grasped her hands seeing that his touch cracked the dead layer. "You know who I am….."

"Miles," she said with a sweet smile then turned to point at the two standing behind him. "That's Aaron and Charlie."

Maggie permitted a little bit of relief as she could recognize everyone so far. Perhaps the extent of her injury had not been as severe as initially feared.

"And that's Maggie."

"Yes, I'm Maggie."

"Okay then let's go," Alex grappled her hands on Miles's shoulders then stood on the uncertain patch of land. "I still want to give Jeremy and Strausser payback."

Miles felt his breath hitching in his chest freezing his lungs at the mention of the names. He hoped no one had seen the shock and resignation written on his face. Fate had decided to side with him in that moment as everyone was focused on Alex. It did little to alleviate the growing burden planted inside his soul.

Charlie and Aaron were perplexed by who she was referring to. Who were Jeremy and Strausser? Was it the concussion causing this? Had her mind wandered into some unknown space? An effect of being Monroe's captive for so long?

"I can carry Alex," Aaron was in the middle of scooping her up as though she held the weight of a feather. Alex resumed the position with arms draped loosely down his shoulders like a slender fleshy scarf.

"Thanks," she ruffled his hair in gratitude.

"Sure," he sighed and fell into line behind Miles.

"Giddy up," her heels lightly tapped the man's love handles as they ventured deeper into the woods. Aaron just sighed as trounced over stone branch and bush. The scrubbing of her hand through his wild tresses made the gentle giant crack a smile; a first in what felt like an eternity.

Miles brought up the rear, keeping his blade handy and eyes sweeping the horizon. Knowing Monroe word was out about their hasty departure from Chicago; thanks to that punk in their bar. Alex had recognized him, pegging him as Militia the second she laid eyes on him; even saying he was good at conning people.

_Damn it! Why wasn't I there? What the Hell happened!?_

The elder Matheson followed the odd pairing of Aaron and Alex as they bounced up ahead.

"Miles," Maggie had reduced her stride then maintained a gait on par with his longer legged pace. "Is something bothering you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about Maggie."

"Liar," the Brit softly called him out. "You haven't said a single word since we left at daybreak."

"What's there to say? We're fugitives, Monroe wants us dead and half the Militia is on our asses."

"You damn well know that's not what I was referring to Miles. It's Alex. I can see it written all over your face like a Greek tragedy."

Miles exhaled and glumly nodded in acquiesce.

"You're right. It's Alex. She's walked on the road through Hell and forced to leave the one place she felt safe in."

"She has endured a substantial amount of physical and psychological trauma based on what she was able to open up about. No one leaves the Militia unscathed."

"I'm well aware of the Milita's legacy and their well deserved reputation. I can't lose her again Maggie. You didn't see her when she showed up on my doorstep. I didn't recognize her at first."

His voice strained as it reached the edge.

"I don't think Alex would be one to go back to Monroe willingly. I may not be acquainted with her as intimately as you in the psychological aspect but I can sense she would rather die as a free woman with you than live as a caged bird under Monroe. After witnessing her bravado in Chicago I obtained a greater respect for her. Alex can hold her own even when she's outnumbered and outgunned."

The petite blonde offered a warm smile emphasizing her sentiment.

"Thanks Maggie," Miles willed the solid lump that materialized in his throat.

"It should be us thanking you Miles; you and Alex helped us by risking your lives."

"Well Alex wouldn't have let those Militia bastards go far. She always has a plan."

"What do you mean?"

"Before the power went out she was an emergency response planner; guess what she did for a living?"

Maggie couldn't resist allowing a light laugh upon hearing the humorous sarcasm in his voice then addressed a darker matter.

"What will you do when you find Monroe?"

Miles felt the words punching him in solar plexus. What was he going to do when he met Monroe face to face? Would he even be able to stand the sight of son of a bitch?

"I don't know Maggie."

And Miles was truly at an impasse. Just what would he do when that moment finally arrived? Would he make good on the promise he silently avowed to Alex? Or would old demons possess his mind refusing to let him succeed?

Again his focus remained on the spans of forests that hugged the horizon. To the right he spotted a narrow strip of railroad tracks that leveled out into a once bustling yard. Out here, in the open, they were easy pickings for the Militia or a bounty hunter to boot.

"We need to get out of the open."

Miles jogged alongside Aaron who was the continued recipient of Alex's playful hands.

"Hi Miles," she lazily grinned down at him. "Nice of you to catch up to us."

"Aaron we need to head south; in the direction of those rail lines."

"Sure," he turned a slow right across the tall grass prairie. In the 15 years since the Blackout, Nature had reclaimed impressive swaths of countryside. Where roads once scarred the natural beauty of the land, Nature had successfully cured herself of the disease. Charlie was in awe of the gently swaying blades of amber and gold, dragging her fingertips over any strand that bent towards the human touch. She had never seen grass so high!

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

Charlie was snapped from her daydreaming. Alex had caught the innocent shine lining her eyes.

"You know where I used to live in Missouri there were whole preserves dedicated to the untouched power and beauty of the Plains. There was a place called the Flint Hills out in Kansas where the grass would be so tall that it appeared as though a horse's legs had been consumed by the very blades themselves."

"It sounds…..wonderful."

"Perhaps someday we can go there."

Charlie lifted a half smile to her lips. A part of her had dared to imagine what existed beyond the Mississippi River. If they got out of this alive maybe they could escape to there and away from Monroe. Miles and Alex could be happy and she would have Danny back. A new life was something worth fighting for.

"That would be nice."

"You would love it Charlie. No one would find us; plenty of water and rich soil to grow food. You know they used to bring cattle from as far away as Argentina to feed on the nutrient rich grounds."

Charlie had seen the nostalgia covering Alex's face. She wasn't sad or even distant when she spoke in that dreamy voice. It was as though she was recalling a part of her that warmed her mind and soul; a reminder of happier times that would never return. Miles eavesdropped on the pair, listening and mourning over that light in her voice that was burning out. He would've given anything to return to those times. The days of being a sergeant in the USMC seemed so distant and out of reach. Sometimes at night, when no one else would be awake, Miles would recall the warmth of the South Carolina sun joined with the gentle lapping of the Atlantic breakers. The ghostly mists of salt coming to rest over his face always lifted his mind from their degraded reality.

* * *

The man in black continued his trek, discovering the treads of at least three distinct individuals. One was heavy set for the sole was deeper in the mud; or perhaps they were carrying something, a body perhaps? The second set was thinner and lighter in depth; definitely a woman. The third was mixed with a fourth and fifth set. He was heading in the correct direction.

With a thin but growing smirk of confidence the man leapt over a modest patch of swamp grass and quickened his gait; ahead the rail yards leading from Chicago loomed in the not so distant horizon.

"Gotcha now Matheson."

* * *

Alex sat on the edge of the rusted rail, watching Miles as he scoured the immediate area. She knew he was searching for Militia, bounty hunters, or anyone else who decided to try and capture the bounty on their heads. The sun was blazing overhead, baking the roads or rather what remained of the roads. A pathetic breeze waved over the tired party, conjuring an appreciated distraction from the angry heat. It didn't feel like early fall but then it wasn't uncommon to have a few spikes of summer heat before the first punch of cold.

"I remember when the power was on I could be over 500 miles away before sunset or halfway across the country if I flew. But now," Alex caught the Sears Tower holding defiantly above the tree line. "We're lucky if we can get 10 miles in before sunset."

Her knees began to ache from being folded in, another ghost from the past. It was growing difficult to find comfort with her joints and bones in what felt like constant mourning; grieving over the loss of what was ripped from her body mind and soul.

_I'm sorry Alex…_

_ No you're not…_

Monroe had skirted away like a coward leaving her at the mercy or lack of such of Strausser. Bastard had made certain she could walk for three months after taking the hammer to her knee joints; but that was before the corkscrew. Alex winced at the ghost pain that paralyzed the interior of her joints, restraining them from movement momentarily. Her hands instinctively circulated around the concealed tabs of angry skin. The silent curses lashed in her mind, damning those who inflicted deep seated anguish and pre-conditioned her to fear. The best wine Monroe kept in his tent and headquarters in Philadelphia couldn't suppress the wailing of broken bone that long since healed or crippling pain that handicapped her from time to time.

He would spend hours with her after a session with Strausser, cleaning and nursing the latest addition of lacerations, punctures, bruises or fractured bone. It was after the third engagement that Alex could disengage her mind from the physical abuse at the hand of the Monroe Republic's "interrogator."

"_He was heavy handed this time."_

_ Monroe gingerly dabbed the quarter inch hole where the corkscrew had been methodically twisted into tendon and muscle. The swelling reached the circumference of a softball, radiating extreme pain from the epicenter. His eyes traced the top of the fluid lined joint then trailed the burn that was a permanent fixture on her upper right thigh. It had been a second degree burn but enough to disfigure the area in a fibrous mix of blush and angry red. An infection had festered in the wound, nearly killing her two years before. The leader of the Monroe Republic had ran his blade through four men before the fifth was successful in devising penicillin from several strands of fungi in the region. That man had been a chemist prior to the Blackout. _

_ "I don't know where he is Bass," Alex expelled a tear from the corner of her eye. Her voice was ragged and weak from the stifling of her wailing. But all it took was one sharp twist of Strausser's wrist and the camp was haunted with her high pitched cries and screams. Some of the men had to leave the camp for it was intolerable to listen to the constant howling which some likened to an animal being slaughtered. _

_ In a way she was being slaughtered. _

_ "No, your punishment isn't for that; it's for insubordination. I warned you to not try and escape. Captain Neville had to track you down in the woods, outside Indianapolis."_

_ "I won't run from you again. I can't take another strike from Strausser. He has taken too much from me."_

_ Her rings of ice silently beseeched Monroe to cease her agony. Her body was broken and heart fractured. He had won! _

_ The circular ores of iron drilled into hers, searching for any grain of deceit; anything to make him suspect she was speaking from the other side of her mouth. He extended an unstable hand, sweetly brushing aside the stray strands of mocha. Had Alex finally conceded to him? Did Strausser's methods shatter the wild spirit that he once revered? Perhaps he had pushed Alex too far, placing her at the edge of sanity. It wasn't what he wanted! All he wanted was for her to be by his side, be a driving force in his ambitions to overpower the other republics. It had been his intentions since the day Neville dragged her into his camp. _

_ Behind every powerful man was an equally powerful woman. _

_ "How can I be certain you are truthful to me?" Hurt underlined his question. _

_ "Bring the brand," she sighed heavily and offered her right wrist. Monroe felt his heart skipping a beat at this subtle gesture. _

_ "I didn't want to hurt you but it was the only way to make you understand. Pain is a means."_

_ She held her tongue, watching as he continued. _

_ "Have I not been good to you though? Shelter, food, wine, ice, clothing, and hot water are what people out there can only __**dream**__ of. But here, here you can have it on a whim, a snap of the fingers. Yet you defied me, spat in my face and upon my hospitality. I had to do what was necessary Alex; please understand that."_

_ Moments later Jeremy arrived with a small branding iron clutched firmly in his right hand. A faint crease touched his lips as he stalked towards his general. Alex didn't have the fight to say anything to the snarky blonde and chose to focus on Monroe. The grin cracked wider behind the leader's back as Jeremy could sense she was finally surrendering. _

_ "I want to do it," Monroe shot his hand out with fingers waving in demand. Jeremy's grin faltered slightly but didn't vanish while passing the branding iron over. Monroe's free hand curled around her wrist with surprising tenderness. She looked away milliseconds before the sizzling of skin and accompanying stench wafted in the tent. Alex battled the rising cry but it erupted from her mouth, as the sharp heat imbedded into her limb, permanently marking her as one of the Militia. Narrow rivers of smoke danced around the iron shape, evaporating once it was lifted up and away. Monroe could see the canyons carved into her eyes and mouth from the pain; but it would pass. It always did. _

_ Jeremy conducted a hasty exit leaving Monroe and Alex alone. He rose and went for the pitcher and basin resting on the long table, emptying the contents into the bowl. A clean towel was thoroughly soaked before being placed over the tender site. A long drawn hiss slid between her teeth at the pressure against her skin. _

_ "Shhhh," Monroe's fingers caressed the side of her face, smearing the tears that collected on the slope of her cheeks. "Just breathe and relax. I know it hurts but soon it will cease."_

_ Alex lamented the loss of painkillers, of the likes of morphine and ibuprofen. _

_ "Here," she didn't notice Monroe had left. He held a glass of red wine in his hand. "This will help."_

_ He urged the edge to her lips, waiting patiently for her to part her lips a little. The wine was strong as it splattered across her dry tongue, instantly sending sparks across her nerves as it journeyed down her throat. It was sweet and inviting against her taste buds, soothing the inflamed cells the deeper the intoxicating offering saturated her cells. Her cheeks began to burn like she was running a high fever. The heaviness began in her fingers then slithered up her hands and wrists before boring into her arms torso and legs before lastly settling in her head. _

_ "B-B-Bass….." Alex was cut off as the potent drug claimed the last part of her body, shutting it down into a deep but needed slumber. _

_ "It will help you sleep," he gave a slight maniacal grin. "I need you well. We have work to do, you and me. So much to accomplish…."_

_ "Alex!"_

Alex snapped her head up and out of the past. The tent was gone as was Monroe. It was only a dream. She had fallen asleep.

"Alex, Miles is missing." Charlie scoured the immediate area but no sign of the elder Matheson.

"Not good," she shook her head and pushed her body off the rail. Her movements were slow like an elderly woman's but it would pass. "Where was he last?"

"He thought he heard something and ran off," Maggie sighed irritably.

"Wait," Alex shot her hand up, listening to the south. "He wasn't hearing things."

The clashing of blades was carried on the breeze and Alex cringed at the thought of one of the Militia having found them already. Shaking the groaning of her knees away, her feet launched her around the back of the abandoned rail car and upon sight of Miles and a man in black. Both had identical swords which didn't go by unnoticed her sharp eyes.

"Jacob," she snarled and started for the pair.

**Forgiveness for the tardiness?**


End file.
